


Sucker Punched

by writeyourownlifestory



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: F/M, Gym rats, Inspired by Fight Club, M/M, Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy, Sonia Kaspbrak Being Terrible, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Street fighting, eye of the tiger plays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:28:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23386639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeyourownlifestory/pseuds/writeyourownlifestory
Summary: By the time Eddie was 13, he was allergic to peanuts, tree nuts, and several cooking oils. By 15, he had never swum in gym class and never went to a friend’s birthday party or had one of his own. By 16, Eddie knew that he liked looking at boys rather than looking at girls, though that didn’t seem to matter at the time. By 18, he had graduated high school and that was the end of his social life. And by 21, Eddie’s life had been torn to pieces.He was a victim of Munchausen syndrome by proxy and now left without a mother, without a home, and without a clue. On top of being told he should go to group therapy, his caseworker had also suggested doing something to blow off some steam. Join a book club or go to the gym. Or maybe join a need-to-know based fight club. Either or.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 27
Kudos: 75





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So, my original idea was to have this based fully on the film Fight Club, but it slowly turned into something so much more. I hope you all like it.

Dee Dee Blanchard was dead. She had been stabbed repeatedly by her daughter's boyfriend while she slept in her bed. Her daughter, Gypsy Rose, who was wheelchair-bound with many ailments, was believed to have been kidnapped by the killer. Later, it was found out that not only Gypse Rose been the mastermind in her mother's murder, but wasn’t sick after all. 

She was a victim of Munchausen syndrome by proxy. In layman’s terms, it means the person taking care of you pretends that you’re sick to continue taking care of you. For some, like Gypsy Rose, it’s being told that you suffer from leukemia and other forms of the body affecting illnesses.

For Eddie, it was being told that the world wanted him dead.

For as long as he could remember he had been sick. His earliest memories had been visiting the hospital where his father would eventually die from lung cancer, only to wind up there himself with a case of acute bronchitis. He survived it, thanks to the help of modern medicine.

That was the last time Eddie remembered being sick. 

The issue was, that wasn’t the last time he had been told he was sick. From the moment he came back from the hospital, everything just seemed to get worse. His allergies had picked up, and it seemed like almost every other weekend he was feeling off. 

His mother had tried her best to help him. They made weekly trips to the doctors and had become regulars with the pharmacy. Eddie didn’t go out much, because the pollen in the air made him have a horrible reaction and on the rare chance he did go out and he scraped his knee or elbow, the bleeding never seemed to stop. 

Soon enough, he just stopped going out altogether. He went to school and back, though that rarely lasted as he was homesick half the time. He would have tutors come to the house to keep his grades up, but he missed being around the other kids, missed having someone other than his mom to talk to. 

Sonia had suggested homeschooling, but the doctor refused. Even with his sickness, he needed to be around other children, other people. His mother agreed, but only if he followed her rules. He couldn’t join any clubs or sports, because if something had happened if he had gotten sick or worse, they wouldn’t know what to do. 

He carried his inhaler and assortment of pills around in a fanny pack because it was easier than shoving them into his backpack. He needed them on hand 24/7 after all. 

By the time Eddie was 13, he was allergic to peanuts, tree nuts, and several cooking oils. He couldn’t eat any blue dyes or anything with artificial sugars. He was on a gluten-free diet and used only antibacterial soaps and lotions. Perfumes gave him rashes and direct sunlight had an almost narcoleptic effect on him. He had asthma and panic attacks. 

By the age of 15, he had never eaten a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He had never swum in gym class and never went to a friend’s birthday party or had one of his own. He never had any friends to call his own. The closest thing he had to one had been Greta Keene, as her father owned the pharmacy that he and his mother frequented. 

Over time, Eddie realized that Greta was nothing but a heartless bitch who picked on others because she couldn’t deal with the fact that her father was a perv who checked out her friends when he thought she wasn’t looking. But during childhood, they had sat together as they waited for the prescriptions to be filled. Sometimes she would be looking through a magazine and she’d be nice enough to let Eddie look through it with her. 

He couldn’t touch it thanks to the ever-so-worrisome possibility of a paper cut, but he would look over her shoulder and gaze at the pictures of the different celebrities and whatever products the magazine was trying to sell. 

By the age of 16, Eddie knew that he liked looking at boys rather than looking at girls, though that didn’t seem to matter at the time. For a very long time, he thought he didn’t like either. He would watch people kiss on the television during a movie with his mom and he’d get uncomfortable with the idea of having someone touch him so closely and swapping spit so carelessly. 

It wasn’t long before his teenage mind began to drift off. The screen time he was given was very limited, but he found his mother was something of a thick sleeper and using incognito mode was a good combination for being able to see the world for what it was outside of the bubble his mother had made for him. 

He didn’t have any social media accounts, but he was able to see everybody else’s. People from school, random strangers who had interesting lives. He scrolled and scrolled, trying his best to imagine what it would be like to be an everyday kid out in the world.

Would he have been good at skateboarding? Would he have been a gamer? Would he have been invited to sweet-16’s and would he have eventually fallen in love with a girl from school? Would he have gotten excited by making out with her after the school dance? Would he have held her hand in the hallway as they walked to class? 

Eddie didn’t think the girl part would ever come about, though he did find it rather fascinating how beautiful some boys would be. He never thought of himself much. He knew, in retrospect, he had nice cheekbones and a fit frame. He had boyish looks that remained graceful even as he went through puberty. His mother kept his hair at a nice length and he styled it well enough. 

His clothing was something to be desired. Shorts that remained rough his tights and polo shirts with the collar always pressed. He wasn’t a boy scout, but he had the look of one. He tried not to think about wanting to change it up. Wearing clothing that clung to him or styling his hair differently. 

He would see some boys online that just looked completely in their element and he would find himself angry that he couldn’t do the same and had very little chance to do anything about it. He would see boys kissing other boys and think about how his mother had brought home a pamphlet from the church about how same-sex relationships and ‘equality’ were wrong for the world. He didn’t understand why. 

Kissing was meant to bring joy to people. Love was meant to bring happiness. How could any of that be so wrong? Sometimes he would want to argue with her, but he never allowed himself to do such a thing, not after his mother had put so much time and effort into taking care of him. 

He swallowed that anger down, letting it a bubble and fester inside of him as he carried out his day to day life. 

By the age of 18, he had graduated high school and that was the end of his social life. He would go out to the doctor or pharmacy, but that was that. No going out to get take out or to see a movie. His bedroom had become his sanctuary. His home had become his prison. 

By the age of 21, Eddie’s life had been torn to pieces. 

Good old Dr. Keene had finally snapped after years of pent up frustration. Nobody knew what caused it. Perhaps it was from the endless repetition of filling the same prescriptions for the same people every single day. Or maybe it was the guilt of being attracted to young girls that pushed him over the edge. 

One second he was working on a puzzle, trying to collect all the edges and then in the next, he was watching his mother be escorted in a police car. 

It seemed that Keene finally had enough with Mrs. Kapsbrak’s bullshit and let the authorities know that she and her doctor had been lying about Eddie’s illnesses. 

He wasn’t allergic to any nuts, or dyes, or perfumes. His inhaler was filled with water and the pills were just placebos. 

They had lied about everything. 

Sonia tried to defend her actions, saying that Eddie was, in fact, sick and she just took extra precautions to keep him alive. The doctor, on the other hand, admitted that he was dirt and had been accepting payment for assigning Sonia in her beliefs. He wrote up the scripts for the sugar pills, writing off blase excuses for why Eddie felt the way he did. 

The doctor was arrested for malpractice and Sonia had been taken into custody for abuse and after a bit of time, they found her guilty of being a proxy to Munchausen syndrome. She was sent to jail for ten years with the possibility of release in three years given good behavior. A restraining order had been placed to keep her away from her son. And Eddie was forced to leave the only home he had ever known and been placed into the foster system. 

Though he was over the legal age and classified as an adult, the lawyer the state had given him fought that, due to his mother’s influence, he shouldn’t have been thrown out onto the street. They wanted to fight that he wasn’t fully developed, at least not mentally, and needed proper assistance. 

It seemed like almost overnight Eddie’s life had changed. He packed up the few belongings that he wanted to bring with him and went off to a few towns over to where his new home waited.

It was there that he had learned about what Gypse Rose and her boyfriend had done. And that bubbling pit of anger inside him began to simmer as he thought of whether or not he would have done the same. 

When he found out the truth, he didn’t know what to feel. He threw up a couple of times and begged the police to give him his medication. When they refused, sending in a doctor to explain the situation, he began to go through withdrawals. 

It took a good few days for Eddie to finally begin to feel normal. For the headaches to go away. For the aches in his chest to finally settle down. 

His new home was decent enough. It was a decent-sized house, filled with just a woman and her son. They hadn’t been strangers, at least not completely. It seemed Mr. Hanscom was his father’s cousin and had been best friends with him all those years ago. He also turned out to be Eddie’s Godfather and legal guardian if anything were to happen to either of his parents. After his father passed away and he had gotten sick, Sonia refused to let anybody see Eddie and all contact with the family was cut off. 

Mrs. Hanscom and her son Ben had been very open to why they decided to take him in. Mr. Hanscom cared deeply for his cousin and was heartbroken when he passed. They had tried to fight Sonia on letting them see Eddie, but Mr. Hanscom died before they could take it to court. Mrs. Hanscom had always attempted to make contact and repeatedly sent birthday cards and letters to him, but they were always sent back. 

After he had died, Mrs. Hanscom went through some tough times and had to move in with her sister. It wasn’t ideal, especially for Ben who had been dealing with a few issues of his own like bullying, but they worked hard so they could afford a place of their own. 

First was an apartment just big enough for themselves and eventually, a home that could have an extra person. At first, Mrs. Hanscom had suggested they would bring in someone who could pay rent, but they later decided to welcome in someone who needed a place to go just as they had years prior. 

And then the news broke out about what Sonia had been doing to him and they jumped at the chance to help him. They didn’t want Eddie to look at it as a handout or a fostering situation. He was free to stay for as long as he liked, glad to have a little piece of his father back in their lives. 

Eddie did everything he could to be anything but a challenge for them. The situation was strange on all of them and the last thing Eddie wanted was to be a bother. He tried to work around his allergies, only to be reminded that they didn’t exist. 

He could eat gluten. He could have peanuts. He could eat things cooked in certain oil and have those sugary cereals. 

Not that the Hanscom house was filled with any of that stuff. Ben had admitted to him that he spent a lot of his time eating his feelings when he was a kid, earning him some interesting nicknames along the way due to constantly being bullied for his weight. 

He slimmed down in high school, having joined the track team in hopes of gaining some popularity and shaking off the weight. It worked and he was now out of school, feeling healthy and looking good. 

He was attending the University of Maine for architecture, deciding to stay home with his mom since the school was less than twenty minutes from their town. 

Eddie, upon finishing high school, decided not to go to college. 

Well, his mother had chosen that. Now she was gone and he didn’t have any money to go and his grades weren’t good enough to warrant a scholarship. So he was forced to carry on like the rest of the losers in his school and remain in Maine forever. 

Ben had been nice and got him a job at the grocery store in town with him. He had never gotten a job before and he was hesitant at first. He didn’t want to be a disappointment, but Mrs. Hanscom insisted that there was no way Eddie could be a failure at stocking shelves and bagging eggs for little old ladies. 

Another thing they had done for him was to help set up a support group. The caseworker had it very clear that Eddie would have some mental issues after what he had gone through. They suggested having him go to a therapist, but Ben thought it would be more helpful for him to be around other people dealing with similar situations. 

It just so happened that Ben had a friend who went to a group and they were able to squeeze him into it. 

That’s how he met Beverly Marsh. 

She was a friendly girl who had been through hell and back and welcomed Eddie in with open arms. He hadn’t been too keen on going, simply because he didn’t want to bother anybody with his problems. 

It was just as they played it out on TV. They all sat around in a circle, introducing themselves to him and talking about their issues. The man running it offered one-on-one care if needed, though Eddie promised he would try out the sitting circle before branching out for personal help.

“It’s okay to be shy,” Beverly had mentioned as they walked out of the meeting. Eddie hadn’t spoken much, only when someone asked him a question, but even then he didn’t give more than a few answers. “Nobody likes to brag about the shit they’ve been through and if they do, then they’re worse off than the rest of us.”

“I just don’t think it’s worth anybody's time.” Eddie had mentioned, shoving his hands into his pockets as they walked down the street. “My mom was crazy. I don’t know what else to say about it.” 

It was clear she had her issues to deal with. Eddie didn’t want to ask her why she did what she did because he already knew. She loved him and wanted to protect him, even if it meant doing unspeakable things. 

Eddie knew people had it worse off. People like Bill, who dealt with a stutter because his mom knocked him down the stairs and had become neglectful since his little brother’s death, something that Bill himself still blamed himself for. Or Henry Bowers, who suffered mental abuse from the hands of his policeman father had turned himself into an abuser himself before finally being forced to seek help. 

Or Beverly, who had been open to Eddie about why she was at the place, to begin with. During their first meeting, she said she had been abused by her father but didn’t go into detail. It wasn’t until they were alone when she confided in Eddie just how it had been. 

The way he would treat her and touch her. The shit Keene used to do, leering at girls and making sly comments, couldn’t hold a candle to the horrific things Beverly had gone through at the hands of her father. 

It was shit like that that made Eddie feel like he didn’t belong in the group, to begin with. All those people needed help because of the bad shit they had gone through. Eddie’s mother loved him, enough to want to protect him from the world. How could he complain about that? How could he compare himself to the likes of Beverly and Bowers?

Eddie felt more like a burden than he had before, but he swallowed down that pain and focused on the only thing he could control his job. 

Mrs. Hanscom had been right when she said he wouldn’t fail. He succeeded in filling the shelves and bagging those eggs for the little old ladies. 

He did that for two weeks, going to work and coming home to help with dinner, doing the dishes and washing his clothes and keeping his room spotless. A new routine for the same old guy. 

Eventually, Mrs. Hanscom began to see how this was creating a rut for Eddie and thought it would be best if he joined Ben at the local gym. Eddie couldn’t think of a worse place to be, filled with sweaty men all grunting as they worked on their bodies, none of which bothered to wipe down the equipment when they were finished with it. Eddie stood off to the side for most of it, just following Ben around like a puppy with his tail between his legs. 

“You know you can work out, right?” Ben asked a few minutes of Eddie just idling there. “You’re my day guest. Why don’t you grab a few weights and give it a go?” 

“I’ll pass. Knowing my luck, I’ll wind up dropping it and breaking my foot.” 

Ben snickered, sitting up from the lying position he had been working in. Eddie was sure it had a name, but he wasn’t aware of it. He didn’t know any workout slang or equipment names. Ben stood then, gesturing to the machine. “Lay down.”

“What?” 

“Lay down. You’re gonna work those arms.” 

Eddie shook his head, but Ben ignored his protest and requested to clean the seat down before forcing him to lay back. “Alright. This is a barbell bench press. We’ll start slow, okay?” 

“Ben, we don’t have to do this,” Eddie swore, hugging when the other male pressed the metal beam against his chest.

“It’s twenty pounds, Eddie. You can do twenty pounds, right?” Ben asked, going to stand by Eddie’s head and spot him. He kept his hands hovering under the beam, letting him ready to catch it in case Eddie couldn’t do it. 

But he did. He lifted it carefully, not with much effort. Eddie wasn’t weak, not physically at least. He should have been based on the way he had been living and the food he had been fed, but he found that some of the things his mom had been pumping into him, aside from sugar pills, had been vitamin supplements. All the vegetables that his mother had fed him were filled with enough protein to keep him moving, to keep up his strength. 

So yeah, he could lift the twenty pounds. And then the thirty that Ben added. They went to forty and it got to be a bit harder, but he could still handle it. It was only when they got to the fifty pounds did he start to shake a bit, start to worry and doubt himself. 

“Hey hey Haystack!” A voice shouted from across the room. Eddie lifted his head to see who was speaking but was quickly pushed back into his place by Ben as the man approached. “You throwing down tonight?” 

“Nah, not tonight Rich,” Ben replied. Seeing as he answered the stranger, Eddie guessed that Haystack must have been a nickname of sorts. He didn’t get it, figuring it was some sort of inside joke. 

“Awe, come on. Big Bill is gonna be dropping by and you know you can’t resist stepping in with him.” 

“I have a handful of shifts this weekend. I can’t risk pulling something or messing up my hand.” 

“Bah! Like you’ve ever lost.” 

“I’ll stop by though. Cheer you on from the sidelines.” 

“Now that’s what I call friend Vol 12!” The stranger tapped Eddie’s knee then, prompting his attention. He craned his head up so he could gaze at him, finding a lanky man with wild hair and glasses standing at the end of the bench. 

He had on gym shorts, much like everybody else and a white tank top, which was covered with an obnoxiously colored button-down shirt that was opened in the front. He had a headband around his forehead and thick glasses which made his eyes seem just a tad larger than normal. 

“Aye, keep it up, small fry. You got this!” He cheered on before walking off. 

Eddie faltered for a moment, letting his head fall back and then lifting it again to make his statement. “I’m not fucking small!” He shouted, causing Ben to chuckle from above. 

“Ignore him. He’s not worth your effort, trust me. Had enough or do you want me to up it?” 

“I think I’ve had my fill of bodybuilding for the day.” 

Ben laughed and pulled the beam off him like it was nothing, carefully placing it down in the corner. 

They left the gym and returned home. Eddie helped Mrs. Hanscom make dinner and set the table and then once they finished eating he helped clean up. They sat together on the couch, watching some movie on the tv. It reminded him too much of how he and his mother would spend time together. 

They wouldn’t go to the park or out for walks. They stayed inside and did puzzles and watched tv. She would put on the news and show all the horrifying things going on in the world and comment on how lucky Eddie was that he could stay inside. They would watch old cartoons that were perfectly fine for a little kid well up until she was taken awake. 

Mrs. Hanscom gave Eddie the choice of what to watch though he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know the television shows that were popular at this time nor did he care for anything. It was just white noise for him. He would stare blankly not even bothering to soak in what was being played out for him. 

They settled on some reality show that was trashy and boring. Mrs. Hanscom would comment here and there about how ridiculous it was and how utterly staged it had to be. 

After a while, Ben got up from the couch and went to change his clothes. He told his mom he was going out and kissed her cheek before walking out the door. 

Eddie sat alone with Mrs. Hanscom, watching the trash television of overly wealthy people and the petty problems they lived with every day. Eventually, she turned in, wishing him a good night as she went off to her room. 

She didn’t tell him to turn the tv off or to make sure he was in bed by a certain time. He was given choices for the first time in, well ever. Eddie did make his home to bed, ready to start the day all over again. 

To work, then home, to make dinner and do laundry. He had a routine, just like he had before everything went to shit. 

He liked it, to an extent. Liked knowing what to expect and having a routine allowed him to mostly stay sane in all of this. If he knew what tomorrow brought, then he would have something to focus on and wouldn’t get lost in the in-between. 

He didn’t question where Ben had gone that night or where he had gone a few nights later. Ben had his own life and didn’t have to invite Eddie everywhere he went. He brought him to the gym for a second time, pushing him once again onto a machine so he could work on his upper arm strength. 

Nobody paid much attention to him there, all speaking to Ben and offering him polite glances and nods. This time he was on something called a ‘hammer strength machine’ pumping his arms in and out. Ben once again spotted him, making sure he didn’t push it or hurt himself. 

Eddie would have wondered why Ben didn’t go to school to be a personal trainer if he hadn’t seen some of his sketches and models. The guy was born to create buildings. He just happened to also have a knack for bodybuilding as well. 

It wasn’t until Beverly had come around to pick Ben up to go out did she see that he was being left behind. She was pissed, more so than Eddie had been about the whole thing and threw a bit of a fit over it. 

“You can’t just leave him behind, Ben!” She argued. 

Eddie was just sitting on his bed, reading one of the books that Ben had lent him. He didn’t even realize that Ben was going out on this particular night until the redhead rushed into the room and told him to get dressed. 

“I wasn’t leaving him behind on purpose,” Ben swore gently. “It just didn’t seem like his type of thing.” 

“You said the same thing about me.” 

“I’m sorry, what are you talking about?” Eddie injected, trying to piece together what exactly was going on. 

“We’re going out. Put your clothes on.” Beverly said. 

There was something about the way Beverly presented herself that proved to Eddie she wasn’t a force to be reckoned with. He pulled his clothes back on and got into Ben’s car where he drove them out and away from the suburbs and into the grasslands. He didn’t get a chance to ask why they were out in the middle of nowhere when they were suddenly pulling up behind an old farmhouse. 

Everything seemed so sketchy and murder and when he found there were more people there than expected, Eddie didn’t know what to think. They passed all the sheep and chickens surrounded by a pen, going further down until they came upon an area that was completely lit up by torches. 

“What are we doing here?” He asked Beverly, following her off to the side. 

In the middle of the crowd, there was a boxing ring. It was mostly makeshift, with the ropes around it looking tethered and overused. He wondered what a thing like this was doing randomly out in the middle of nowhere. 

“Tonight, just watching,” Beverly answered to him. 

“Watching what?” 

“All right, all right! Everybody settle down!” A voice shouted out. A man appeared in the room then, followed by a second man. The first was dark-skinned and he recalled seeing around town before. His family’s farm supplied the meat for the grocery store. His name was Mike. 

The other man was a stranger to him. Tall and thin, with short, neatly styled hair. Neither men looked like they were dressed to be inside the gym, with Mike wearing a plain tee shirt and jeans and the other wearing a button-up and khakis. 

“Welcome everyone. We’re gonna have some good fights tonight.” Mike said, greeting the crowd once they relaxed a bit. “So far we have six signed up, which means three tights. Stan and I have put together who goes again who, so if you’re fighting or betting, listen up.” 

The second man, Stan, held up a chalkboard for the crowd to see. “We have Denbrough vs Bowers. Cross vs Huggins. And Tozier vs Hotchsetter. Now, you all know the rules, so we’re gonna make this quick. No shirt, no shoes. No weapons of any kind.” 

“The only weapon allowed in the ring is your body,” Stan mentioned, smirking down at the crowd. 

“If you bleed, then you bleed. If you think something is broken, then you’re out. If someone says stop and if you do not stop, then that calls for what?” 

“Total elimination,” Stan answered. 

“If you wanna play dirty, you gotta pay the price. Now that we’ve reminded you how it goes: let’s begin, shall we? Anybody willing to take bets, speak with Stanley. Bowers! Denbrough! You have two minutes.” 

“What is this?” Eddie asked, shifting aside as people moved through the crowd to get to Stan and make their bets. 

“Have you ever seen the movie Fight Club?” She asked. “It’s sort of like that.” 

“Bev, the only movies I was allowed to watch were G-rated films screened by my mother. Nothing with the word ‘fight’ would have passed her.” 

“They’re gonna beat the shit out of one another.” Beverly simplified.

Before he could ask another question, both Henry Bowers and Bill Denbrough, two people that Eddie knew from the group meeting, slipped into the ring. Both were shirtless. Both were shoeless. Henry had his hair pulled back with a headband and Bill had some medical wrap wrapped around his knuckles. 

Eddie moved closer, peering over someone’s shoulder to get a better look. Mike stood in the middle, reminding them both to be fair and to put on a good show before tapping them in. Bill and Henry circled one another before Bowers made the first strike. Bill blocked it easily, catching Bower’s off guard a half step later. It seemed like a simple boxing match except without the protective gear. 

Eddie thought back to when he was eleven and had been flipping through the channels. He stumbled upon some MMA fight that was being televised. He was able to watch it for a good forty seconds before his mom flipped out and changed the channel. She rambled on about how dangerous fighting was and how sensitive Eddie’s skin was so if he were to ever be in a fight, he would be torn to pieces. 

Eddie thought about what the differences would be, between MMA and boxing and whatever this thing happening here was. 

In the tiny ring, they went at it, punching, and kicking, and biting, bruising skin and spitting out blood, they fought until finally, Mike seemed Denbrough the winner. The crowd cheered around them and despite having blood on his face, Bill still offered Bowers a hand to lift him. He guested it was out of good sportsmanship or something. 

They left the ring, letting a few people slip inside to clean it up before the next two came up to fight. 

Eddie recognized one of them as the fella from the gym the first time he went. He had his shaggy hair pulled back out of the way of his face and his glasses had been removed for obvious reasons. He was jumping up and down, practically bouncing with excitement as he stretched on the sidelines of the ring. 

When Mike called his name, he hopped inside, pacing in place and punching the air theatrically. 

Beverly stood beside him then, touching his shoulder to get his attention. “Hey, you okay?” 

“How long do we have to stay here?” He asked curiously. 

He guessed she took that as Eddie wanted to leave at that moment because in a flash they gathered up Ben making their way out of the crowd. The last thing Eddie heard was the animalistic shouts from one of the fighters in the ring before they were back in the car.


	2. Chapter 2

They wound up at a diner, just a few blocks down away from the gym.

They sat in a quaint little booth and ordered coffee, though Eddie still wasn’t a fan. He knew the caffeine was something they’d have to get used to, but for now, he still wasn’t really into it. He sipped slowly, for the sake of Beverly and Ben, but other than that, he just continued to open up those little creamer packets and pour them into his mug. 

“I just don’t get the point of it,” Eddie admitted after a bit of time. “Why would you want to fight someone? I know professionals do it for money, but unless you’re getting something out of it, what’s the point?” 

“It’s a sense of relief,” Ben explained carefully. “A way to relieve stress. You throw a few punches, take a few hits.” 

“It’s a way to let off some steam,” Beverly added. “It’s like a hobby! Think about it. Some people listen to music or play an instrument. Some will go to bars and drink or pick up someone to sleep with. Completely relieving yourself from your problems, even if it’s just at that moment.” 

Eddie squirmed in his seat, stirring his overtly creamy coffee slowly. “You say that like you’ve done it.” Ben and Beverly exchanged a look, a wide smile coming across both their faces. “Wait. Have you?” 

“I’ve dabbled with it before,” Beverly admitted. 

“What, did you have a fighting name or something?” 

“Fighting name?” 

Ben snickered lowly. “He sounds like Richie.” 

“This isn’t backyard wrestling where everybody has a made-up persona. That shit is fake. What happens in that basement still exists the next day.” 

Eddie glanced at Ben, his facial expression a mix of confusion. 

“You get beaten up for real.” He clarified. “You don’t step into that ring unless you’re prepared to face the consequences. Bones can be broken. Ribs can be smashed.” 

“Ben nearly put somebody in the hospital one time,” Beverly mentioned like it was the hottest piece of gossip around town. 

“I think you’re forgetting that you put someone in the hospital.” Ben fired back, though all Beverly did was shrug, like she was oh so very proud of this fact. 

“Does your mom know?” Eddie asked curiously. 

“Hell no. Do you think she’d be happy her son was fighting like that?” 

“Besides, this shit is all on a need-to-know basis. Only people who fight are people not willing to blab and most people viewing it are there to gamble, so no one there is going to make a fuss about it.” 

Eddie leaned back in the booth, still unsure of all of this. In retrospect, he understood and even respected the need to release a little bit of steam, but it all seemed so complicated. Who would want to spend their nights fighting all the time and possibly getting hurt because of it? Wouldn’t a bruise just add on more trouble? Or were the people that confident that they’d walk away unscathed that they wanted to take the chance? 

A few days later, Eddie went to the group meeting with Beverly. Bill and Henry were there, both wearing the bruises they had received from the other. Eddie wondered if they would interact at all. He knew they weren’t very chummy outside of the group, but when one commented, the other was quick to retort. 

Bill suffered from a stutter and Henry was low enough to mock him on it, even despite the director of the group reminding him that this was meant to be a safe place. A place for healing for them all. Bullying of any kind couldn’t be accepted. 

Eddie had been bullied a time or two while in school, but not very often. Although he would have been an easy target, it just wasn’t worth it. He was pathetic enough already, pushing his face down in the dirt would be like adding insult to injury. 

He mentioned it to Beverly as they walked back into town. Eddie had work and would be there until closing. Ben worked the morning shift and mentioned to Eddie that he and Beverly would be going back to the basement and wanted to apologize for not including his last time. 

It didn’t seem like his sort of thing and truly, Ben hadn’t been wrong. He was still finding it hard to understand why anybody would want to participate in something like that.

“You don’t have to be friends to step inside the ring, but you don’t have to be enemies either,” Beverly told him. “When you’re in there, you could be up against the kid that pushed you in the lockers back in seventh grade or you could be up against your best friend. Anything is possible.” 

“Do you get to choose who you fight?” 

“If Mike and Stan approve of it. Usually, you have to sweet-talk them. They like to keep it somewhat fair, try to keep everybody in the same weight class, you know?”

“How did this stuff even start?” Eddie asked as they turned the corner. 

They stopped outside the grocery store and Eddie moved a few steps away so Beverly could light up her cigarette. He no longer had to worry about the possibility of falling into an asthma attack, so the smell of smoke wasn’t going to kill him. He still knew about the chances of second-hand smoke, so he kept some distance, but he wouldn’t stop her from doing it. 

“Mike runs this whole thing,” Beverly told him, going to lean against the glass showing the advertising of the store. “Mike’s dad had set up the boxing ring back when he was a kid and after he died, he didn’t have the heart to tear it down. He figured they’d get some use out of it and suddenly it turned into a weekly thing.” 

“When do you usually fight?” 

“Not so much anymore.” She said, flicking away the ashes. “Most guys don’t like going up against a woman and not a lot of women like fighting, so only a chosen few will fight me.”

“And you put one of them in the hospital?” 

Beverly smiled fondly, taking in a long inhaler and letting the smoke slip through her lips slowly. “Moose Sadler. He was a wannabe tough guy who thought it would be smart to fight a girl because he thought he’d win.” 

“And I take it that he lost?”

“Within minutes.” Beverly waved him off, flicking the cigarette onto the ground and using the toe of her boot to stomp it out. “I ended up nearly blinding him. Quite proud of that, to be honest. He hasn’t come back since. I think I might have damaged his pride a bit.” 

“That’s pretty impressive, B.” 

Beverly did a dramatic curtsy, waving her fingers as she walked off down the street. Eddie waited a few moments before heading into the store, sending Ben off so he could meet up with Beverly and go watch for the night. 

Eddie tried not to think of the club. He tried to think of his routine and stick with it. He had a meeting with his caseworker a few days later, who asked if he liked the placement thus far. He had no real complaints and asked if his mother had been told where he was relocated. Due to the restraining order, she wasn’t allowed any contact with him. 

It was for Eddie’s benefit. She had brainwashed him to the point of him nearly developing Stockholm syndrome. He was forced to believe he needed her or else he would die, making the adjustment period far harder on Eddie. 

He didn’t like to think his mother still had a hold on him. He didn’t want to imagine himself unable to cope in everyday society just like she told him he wouldn’t. 

He wanted to be stronger; wanted to point out that he was better than that. Better than what everybody thought he would be. And that meant making sure the caseworker knew he was thriving, even if he wasn’t. 

He was surviving and that was fine. That was all that mattered at that point. 

Eddie wasted another week just going along to his routine. Work, and cleaning, and cooking. Sitting and watching TV with Mrs. Hanscom. Sometimes she would show him a few photo albums that featured her late husband and son. Eddie’s mother never took pictures of him. He didn’t know why. Maybe they couldn’t afford a camera due to all the medical bills that continued to pile up. 

She stopped a few pages in, pointing to a picture of Ben when he was just a toddler, sitting in a sandbox. Beside him was another little boy. With tan skin and dark hair. 

“That’s you.” Mrs. Hanscom mentioned lovingly. “You were about three hear. Oh, your father used to let you play in the sandbox for hours. Benny would build the sandcastles and you would knock them down.” 

Eddie couldn’t imagine his mother ever allowing him to get his hands dirty like that. His backyard at home was very bland and boring. No pool, or sandbox, or even a swing or slide. It was just dead grass and a dirty fence. 

Mrs. Hanscom promised to find more pictures for him to look at, of himself as a child and possibly some of his father when he and her husband were kids. 

He liked filing through the pictures, seeing all the memories this small family shared. He found himself just a little bit envious. He wondered if he would have a similar fate had his father not died. Would he have been able to stop all of this, maybe even prevent it from happening to begin with? 

Eddie didn’t like to think of what could have been. About the alternate realities of what his life would have been like had his mom not been such an over a caring person. 

He went to the group therapy with Beverly, speaking up no more than he had the previous times he had been there. It was going on about two months now and while he spoke if spoken to, he also didn’t put himself out there any more than he felt he needed to. 

He didn’t want to bother. If someone was going through something, he didn’t want to waste time talking about whatever he was feeling. Some people needed the spotlight more than others and he was fine with that. 

It was a few days later that Eddie decided to go along with Beverly and Bento Mike’s farm. Beverly had mentioned that Ben would be fighting and he was curious to see how it would go down. Ben was a fit guy and seemed to know what he was doing in the gym. He wondered if that translated well over inside the ring. 

Back outside, trying his best to ignore the smell of the musky air and sheep, he stood by Beverly and Ben, waiting for it to start. Four fights were to go on and it seemed Ben would be going late. 

They had to wait a while since there were no time limits on fights. Mike tried to make them stop around the half-hour mark since they were burning the night away and everybody had to go to work the next morning, but Beverly had mentioned that sometimes they would drag out longer than that if the fight was just that good. 

The first to go was Bill again, going up against Mike for a chance. It seemed now and then he’d jump in the ring and throw hands if he was up for it. He destroyed Bill, leaving him with a bruised eye and fat lip. 

After that, it was Criss and Huggins again, and that went on longer than anybody cared for. Eventually, Stanley demanded that they either OK each other or forfeit because they had other things to focus on. 

After them, it was Hotchsetter against Bowers and that was also strained out, but enough blood had been shed for it to be enjoyable. 

Ben was the last night of the night and he was up against someone named Tozier. The latter came bouncing in the ring, shadowboxing as he waited for Ben to join him. 

“Don’t get too scratched up this time,” Beverly said, pushing his hair back. 

“Gonna kiss my wounds if I do?” He asked playfully, pulling his shirt off and handing it over to her. 

Beverly took it, a thin smile playing across her face. “Not even if you ask nicely.” 

As far as Eddie knew, they were nothing more than friends, but you didn’t need a telescope to see how much Ben liked Beverly. They were best friends and had been for some time. Ben had been there for Beverly when everything went down with her dad and supported her to move in with her aunt. 

Beverly had never mentioned whether or not she felt the same, but now and then Eddie would catch her glancing at him and there would be something in her eye that he hadn’t been able to describe. 

His mom never read romance novels. She didn’t like smut and if they hadn’t been biologically related, Eddie would have thought she found sex to be revolting in general. However, the internet is a wide place and he had been able to track down a few things during his secret internet time. 

The eyes were meant to be the windows of our souls, so the way you used them was very important. Eddie may not have known the words to describe the way Beverly would watch Ben, but he knew it meant something. 

Ben climbed into the ring, smiling politely as the Tozier guy circled him like a shark. He had the same headband again though this time a pair of insanely bright colored shorts. 

Stan counted them in and within a flash, Tozier tackled Ben to the ground, launching his lanky body against him in a matter of seconds. He wondered if that was against the rules, but he remembered that there were no rules. 

No outside objects. Stops when they say stop. Any hits after stopping is a cause for banning. Other than that, it was pretty much a free game. 

Ben wasn’t bothered by the sudden attack and swiftly rolled them over, pushing himself off Tozier and jumping back to his feet. They danced around one another, making it obvious that this was something they had done before. Tozier was always up for the element of surprise, but Ben was more graceful than that. 

Tozier got a few kicks in and even knocked Ben onto his knees, but it was Ben that won in the end. He got Tozier down and with a couple of pops to the face with his elbow, blood-splattered and Tozier was down for longer than three seconds. 

Mike called it and Ben was pronounced the winner. He helped Tozier up, sending him off to clear himself up as he went back to Beverly to collect his shirt. 

Since the only people who made any money on this was Stan and those who made their bets, there was no reason to stick around afterward. They were making their way back to the car, they were approached by a still bloody Tozier. 

Eddie thought for a moment this would take a dark turn, but instead, Tozier was there for a high five and some overzealous compliments. 

“One day you’re gonna have to teach me those moves!” He prompted. 

Bev, going into her clutch, pulled out a makeup wipe and moved in to wipe away the blood that had flowed from Tozier’s face. 

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to wipe your mouth?” 

Tozier jutted his chin out, allowing Beverly to clean him up easily. “Nope!” He replied cheerfully. “Are you guys getting food. Do you wanna get food?” 

“Did you lose any teeth?” Ben questioned. 

“Nah, you got me on my nose.” He mentioned, popping his lips to show that they were still in fact. “Come on, I’m buying!” 

“We’ll meet you there,” Ben promised, watching as Beverly shoved him away. Tozier hurried off into the darkness, leaving the three of them to get back inside Richie’s car. 

“So where is ‘there’ exactly?” 

There turned out to be the diner, the same as the first time Eddie had done with them to the farm. When they arrived, Tozier was already there, with Mike and Stan in the bunch. Bill followed soon after and they all squeezed into the far off table.

Eddie sat quietly, sitting next to Beverly, pushed into the corner so he was the farthest from everybody. They ordered cheese fries, tots, and chicken fingers. They had ice cream floats and a bunch of other greasy snacks and delicious sweets to share. 

Tozier plopped down in front of him, tossing a cheese-covered fry into his mouth. His nose was a bit swollen and his glasses were finally back onto his face. He still had the headband on, but it was pushed up a bit more, making his hair look a bit fluffier than it had been in the ring.

“Sup.” 

“Hi,” Eddie replied tentatively, keeping his eyes on his plate where he had been tearing up the pieces of chicken. 

“Your Ben’s little brother, right?” 

Eddie did look up, his brow caving as he frowned. “I’m sorry?” 

“You’re his foster brother, ain'tcha?” 

“I’m not . . . I’m not a foster kid. He’s my cousin.” 

“But the Hanscom’s are your foster family, so he’s your foster brother? His mom is your foster mom?” 

Eddie didn’t know what to say. He thought about running, but it felt somewhat pointless. “Sure.” He answered. 

“Cool, cool, cool. Did you like our fight?” 

His brows raised this time, in confusion and surprise. “Did I like it?” 

“Yeah! Beverly is always rooting for Ben, so I was hoping I could have a cutie in my corner cheering me on.” 

Eddie didn’t respond. He just stared, taken back by the boldness that was this man. Beverly was quick to the rescue, shooing Tozier away by throwing a handful of tots at him. 

“That’s wasting food, Marsh! There are starving children in Africa!” 

“And yet here you are, eating it up and bothering Eddie in the process.” 

“I’m just talking!” He insisted, holding his hands up in defense. “Are you ever gonna jump in the ring, little man?” 

“Can you knock it off with the little shit?” Eddie snapped. “I’m of average height. Not everybody can be a fucking giant.” 

“I’m just saying. If you want some tips, I’m happy to give you some pointers.” 

“Eddie doesn’t want your tip, Richie.” 

“Oh! Marsh gets off with a good one. Gonna let Benny get off too?” 

Another handful was thrown in his face, though this time Richie did catch a few. He slipped away, proud of his antagonizing as he went over to the other end of the table. 

“Don’t let him bother you. He’s smart, but he’s a moron.” 

“It’s fine,” Eddie reassured, wiping his hands on his napkin. 

Eddie didn’t know if the flirting was intentional or if Tozier, or Richie, whatever he was called, was just saying it to mess with him. He just continued to break up his chicken tenders, taking tiny bites of the breading. His mother, despite being overweight herself, rarely fed him anything with real substance. All his chicken was grilled and bland; no sauce or seasoning. Nothing fried or covered in dressing. It was something he had to get used to, the extra flavor added to every meal. 

Richie was true to his word and paid for everything, handing his hand over to the waitress before she could even put the bill down and tossed a few dollars down for a tip. Now that Eddie was working, he had some money of his own. He spent it on lunch any time he and Ben decided to grab some food during their breaks, or flowers for Mrs. Hanscom on days he just wanted to do something nice. 

He didn’t splurge on anything for himself. He didn’t need anything anyway. 

But he was ready to pay his fair share for the meal, but it seemed Richie already took care of it. He tried to offer him some cash, holding a ten out to him outside the diner, but the shaggy-haired man rebuffed him. 

“Keep it. Buy yourself something nice.” Richie told him, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. 

“You didn’t have to buy everyone’s dinner.” 

“I lost, dude. It’s fair and square.” He shrugged, unfazed. 

Eddie wondered if he did this often. Buy dinner for every time he had his ass kicked. There were seven of them eating and drinking, and even if they had just bought appetizers, he was sure the prices racked up quickly. Did he work often enough to be able to afford that? Eddie didn’t want to ask, he didn’t want to be too forward.

Beverly called for him, waving him off in the direction of Ben’s car. Richie gave a small salute before heading off into the darkness of the parking lot. Eddie waited a moment before leaving too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope quarantine is doing you all well. Please feel free to comment and tell me what you thought. 
> 
> Stay safe and healthy!


	3. Chapter 3

Eddie thought, as a nice gesture, he would surprise Ben and take him out to lunch. 

He got off of work earlier than he thought he would. They didn’t have that much to unpack and restock onto the shelves. It was pretty slow on this particular day, so the need for any extra baggers or cashiers wasn’t as high as always. The manager of the store gave Eddie the option to skip out forty-five minutes earlier than he was scheduled to leave. 

He didn’t jump at the chance to leave, but he took it regardless. Walking down the street, he thought it would be a good idea to head into the gym that Ben frequented at and see if he’d be interested in grabbing something to eat. 

He knew Ben’s routine as well as his own. He wakes up and goes for his run. If he was closing, then he’d come home, eat breakfast and hang around the house. Sometimes he would do a bit of work in his room, rearranging some of his models or creating an online template for future projects. And then he’d go to the gym and work out for an hour or two. He’d come home and show, help with dinner and then either go out with Beverly or Mike before returning home for the night. 

If he was opening, then he’d still go out running, but he would do it far earlier and make a protein shake or take something portable. He’d go to work and then get out, heading straight for the gym when he was finished, and then come home, shower, help with dinner, and then go out. 

He’d usually go to the gym around the same time regardless if he was opening or closing, so Eddie had a pretty good shot of him being there. 

He slipped inside, looking around in hopes of spotting him. He came up empty, but waited a bit, thinking maybe he was in the back room. He stood there for nearly five minutes, looking completely out of place in his work shirt and jeans. 

“Ay, Eduardo!” A voice called out to him. He looked up, seeing Richie sitting up from a machine he was on. Ben had mentioned calling it a ‘crunch machine’ or something like that. Richie pulled off his headphone, the sound of the music muffled, but still loud enough for Eddie to hear just slightly. “He’s not here.” 

“What?” 

“Haystack. He’s not here. Bev stopped by and grabbed him maybe about fifteen minutes ago.” Richie explained. 

Right. So Eddie had been on the money with the timing but missed him by a few minutes. He wasn’t surprised that Beverly had come and snatched him away. Any time she wasn’t in the group meeting or working at her aunt’s boutique, she was with Ben. 

It was fair enough since they were best friends. Eddie didn’t know if that was what being a best friend was, always wanting to be around them and do everything with them. 

Or maybe it was more than friendship. 

Eddie didn’t know either way. 

“Oh. Thank you.” 

“No problemo. You wanna do a few sets?” 

“Few what?” 

“Sets, dude! Gotta work on those gains!” 

Eddie just stared, babbled by whatever the hell he was even saying. Mke walked by then, slapping the back of Richie’s head as he passed. “Speak English, dumbass.” He prompted. 

“Ah! Geez, Hanlon. Hands-off outside the ring.” Richie mumbled, standing from the machine. 

“I think you’re supposed to wipe those down,” Eddie mentioned as Richie approached him.

“Though, do you wanna work out? I’m always down for some tag-team pumping.” 

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Eddie grumbled with a heavy sigh. “But, if you’re asking me to work out, I’m gonna decline. Not exactly in the right attire.” 

“That’s fine! Just take the pants off. Boxers and gym shorts are similar enough.” 

Eddie scoffed, wrinkling his nose at the idea. “Dude, no.” 

“I’m kidding! I’m done anyway,” Richie reached into his pocket, turning off the music playing from his phone and detached the headphones, pulling them off his neck. He wrapped the wire around and around, tightening it before looping it through his arm to hold onto. “Did you walk here?” 

“I don’t have a car,” Eddie told him. 

No car, no license. He knew the town was small enough, allowing him to walk just about everywhere, but he knew how pathetic it sounded.

Eddie’s whole existence was pathetic at this point. 

“Are you going home?” 

“Not like I have anywhere else to go,” Eddie answered with a small shrug. 

“Want a lift?” Richie questioned. “I don’t have work tonight, so I don’t have anywhere else to go either.” 

Eddie shook his head slightly. “It’s fine,” 

“Can I walk with you?” Richie asked, taking a step closer. “I don’t mean to be pushy. Just. Super bored and figured a conversation would shake things up a bit. If you don’t want to be bothered, just say so.” 

Eddie couldn’t remember the last time he had been bothered. He thought of all the times when he was little when his mother would take away the comic books he had borrowed from the library or forced him to watch the children's programming she had found on tv even though he was over eighteen. 

Eddie also couldn’t remember the last time someone cared if he was bothered. He was so used to just doing what other people wanted him to do, what his mother wanted him to do, that being given options seemed so rare and new to him. 

Richie waved a hand over Eddie’s face slowly. “You okay? Your eyes sort of glazed over there.” 

Eddie blinked, not realizing he had been starring, drifting off into his thoughts. “I’m fine.” 

Richie bobbed his head firmly. “All right. Well, do you want that ride or not?” 

“Sure,” Eddie replied, deciding he had nothing to lose.

Richie beamed, his eyes lighting up behind those thick glasses of his. He followed Richie out to the parking lot, walking over to the car that appeared to be his. He didn’t know much about the car but knew it was nice enough. An older model. He had seen it once before, on the cover of a car magazine at the pharmacy. 

“Ain't she a beaut!” Richie said as they approached the car. 

It was blue, or at least it was supposed to be, but dirt stains and other things were covering it. Eddie couldn’t tell if it was dented or the car was just oddly shaped. Eddie just gave a small nod, letting Richie toss his gym back into the back before getting into the driver’s seat. 

“Come on, big man!” 

Eddie got into the passenger side of the car, surprised to find it somewhat clean. He had a McDonald's cup sitting in the cup holder and the air freshener hanging on the mirror didn’t seem to be working because the car itself smelt like grease and cigarettes. 

“Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Richie told him as they pulled out of the car. “Do you mind if I peel into the Wendy’s on Union?” 

“That’s fine,” Eddie replied smoothly. 

Richie turned on the stereo the moment they hit the road. He had his music playing, a bunch of bands playing alternative rock songs that Eddie didn’t know. “You can change it if you want to. All music is good music to me,” 

Eddie didn’t touch the radio. He let it play on as they drove, with Richie lowering it as they got to the drive-through. He half-shouted his order, pausing so he could turn back to Eddie. “What do you want?”

“What?” 

“To eat? 4 for 4? Baconator fries? Spicy nuggets? Throw me a bone here, Eduardo.” 

“My name is Eddie. Short for Edward.” 

“Okay Edward, what do you want?” 

“I’m not hungry.” 

“Dude, it’s fast food. You don’t eat fast food because you’re hungry. You eat it because it’s cheap and filling.” The muffled, machinal voice from the ordering box asked if that was all. “Hang on, one sec! Eds, pick something.” 

“I don’t want anything.” 

“You just got off of work, right? Did you have lunch?” Eddie gave Richie a small side-eye in response. “Yeah, I thought so. Hey! Sorry about that. Can I get two large Frostys and a large fry too? That’s all.” 

Pulling up to the window, Richie paid and proceeded to hand Eddie the bag of food and placed the two Frosty’s in the cup holders. He took the McDonald’s cup and continued to drink it as they drove the rest of the way to the Hanscom household. 

Richie parked up front, unbuckling his seatbelt as he shifted in the seat, turning to face Eddie properly. “All right. Let’s eat.” He declared. 

He took his cheeseburger and bit into it, holding out the container of fries for Eddie to take. He stole three of them, chewing on them piece by piece. They weren’t as salty as the ones from McDonald's, nor were they as curly as the ones from Arby’s. 

The Hanscom’s thrived on eating from home, but now and then they’d splurge and they’d all go out to dinner at Olive Garden or bring in Chinese. And on some nights, they’d go buck wild and get fast food because it was inexpensive and quick. 

McDonald’s had been the first type of fast food Eddie had eaten. He wasn’t too impressed with the Big Mac, finding the extra piece of bread to be something of an overkill, but the regular cheeseburger was fine. 

These fries were good as well, though Eddie found himself feeling a bit concerned when he caught sight of Richie dipping his fries into the Frosty. 

“Oh don’t give me that look. Come on. Don’t knock it till you try it.” Richie argued, nudging Eddie’s arms. 

Huffing a sigh, Eddie relented, going to dip the end of one fry into the Frosty, taking a bite of it. The sweet and salty elements weren’t bad. The cold and warm combination was a bit odd, but he didn’t hate it. 

“Not the worst.” He admitted, shoving the straw into the heavy liquid. He tried to slurp it up but found himself unable to do so. “Why the fuck is this so thick?” 

“Your mom asked me the same thing,” Richie said, his smirk only lasting a few moments before realization hit him faster than Ben’s elbow did the night of their fight. “Oh fuck. I’m sorry.” 

Eddie offered a thin smile, keeping his eyes on his Frosty. He stirred it around, trying to melt it a bit so he could drink it. 

“I’m guessing you know all about it,” Eddie mentioned quietly. “Reporters had come around the first few days I got here, but Mrs. Hanscom chased them away.”

“I just know what Ben told me. Overprotective mom and stuff. He didn’t go into a lot of detail.” 

“Ben isn’t one for gossip.” He knew his cousin wouldn’t bitch or brag about the situation. Ben was a good person. Probably the best outside of his mother. 

“You probably don’t want to talk about it,” Richie mentioned, sticking his straw into his own Frosty. “You can if you want to. I’ve been told I tend to run my mouth, but I like to think I’m a pretty good listener too.” 

“Not much to say,” Eddie mentioned, attempting to take another sip. 

Richie hummed, bobbing his head. They sat in silence for a few minutes, focusing on his meal while Eddie stirred his Frosty around, and around, and around. 

“So how did you get into the whole fight club thing?” Eddie asked, deciding to cut through the silence and the gentle tension that was beginning to grow between them. 

“You do know the first  _ and _ second rule of fight club is to not talk about fight club right?” Richie snickered. 

“Oh. I’ve never seen the movie so….” 

“Stan invited me,” Richie answered. “He told me that I had, and I quote, ‘a very punchable face’ which isn’t something I’m completely surprised about.” 

“Kind of rude.” 

“But very on-brand for Staniel.” Richie insisted. “I don’t know, man. I started going to the gym, started hanging around with the other guys. They introduced me to it and I’ve been going for about a year now.” 

“I don’t understand the point of it,” Eddie confessed to him. “Wanting to hit someone and cause pain.” 

“It’s not about causing pain. Look, you know the adrenaline rush you get when you do something completely wild?” 

Eddie started blankly to him, unable to come up with a single time he had done anything wild. The closest had been when he would surf the internet late at night when his mom thought he was sleeping. 

Richie, not bothering to comment, carried on. “It’s that. We ride that rush for as long as it lasts. It’s hard to put into words. It’s like running and jumping, unsure if you’re going to stick the landing.” 

“I think I get it,” Eddie told him. Giving up on the sucking, he pulled the straw out from the cup, licking it slowly, lapping up the sweet creamy flavor. Richie watched him for a moment, his eyes focused on Eddie’s mouth. “What?” 

“I could teach you some stuff,” He mentioned, his eyes flicking up to meet Eddie’s. “Working out. How to throw a punch.” 

“I don’t want to fight,” Eddie answered. 

“You don’t have to, but staying in shape is important. And if your mom did lock you away like some sick bubble boy, you’re going to need to bulk up if you ever want to make it in this world.” 

“Stan was right. You do have a very punchable face.” Eddie declared. 

He stabbed the straw back into the Frosty, deciding he’ll drink it at a later time when it was melted and suckable. He opened the car door, turning his head back to thank Richie for the ride. 

“If you’re interested, come to the gym Friday morning,” Richie called out of the passenger side window. 

“I’m opening Friday,” Eddie replied, pushing through the gate. 

“Then come Friday night. What do you have to lose, man?” 

Richie drove off before Eddie could even come up with an answer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is doing all right. I hope you're all staying healthy and sane.


	4. Chapter 4

As it turned out, Eddie didn’t have much to lose after all. 

He tried to think of a couple of things that would make it into a good excuse not to go to the gym, but he kept coming up empty. He did need to start working out and getting healthy. Sure, his mom pumped him up with supplements and protein, but that didn’t make him healthy. He was walking everywhere nowadays, so his legs were getting a good hit, but what about his arms? 

Sure, he had to carry the heavy boxes at the store and lifted a few of them while restocking, but he knew he could do better. It wasn’t like he was getting thrown into the ring after all. He would hit a few machines and lift a few weights. Nothing worth bragging about. 

After coming home from work, he hung around the house for a little bit, having nothing else really to do. Ben and Beverly were going to see a movie and while they had invited him to tag along, he declined, claiming he had something he had to take care of. The two had done everything they could to not make him feel like he was the third wheel, but sometimes two people just needed to be alone, whether they were a couple or not.

Mrs. Hanscom was working late, so he had the house to himself for a little while. He lasted about twenty minutes before he threw in the towel and changed from his work shirt and jeans into a plain tee-shirt and shorts. He locked the door behind him and made his way into town, down Main street and up to the gym. 

He looked through the window, finding it somewhat empty for the night. He guessed even gym rats had something else to do on a Friday night. There were only a couple of guys inside and after a few minutes of just standing there, he finally entered. 

Richie was off in the morning, doing a handful of genetic stretches on the mat. Eddie didn’t want to think of how often, or lack thereof, the mat was wiped down just like the rest of the machines. 

Eddie liked to keep it clean, as it was something they would do every week back when he was living with his mother. Sonia Kaspbrak wasn’t one with OCD, but it was a chance for them to bond together. Wiping everything down with Lysol was a great way to get rid of any common germs and Eddie had learned from a very early age how to disinfect and keep order. 

“Eds!” Richie called out upon spotting him. 

“It’s Eddie.” He retorted, already wondering if he had made the right decision. 

“Eds is short for Eddie.” 

“And Eddie is already short for Edward.” 

“Richie is short for Richard. Wanna know something even shorter?” 

“If you say your dick, I’m leaving.” 

Richie gasped, placing his hand over his chest as he faked shock and dismay. “Edward! How could you? Why would I ever lie about my penis like that?” 

“Beep, Beep, Richie.” Eddie stared at him, blank and unimpressed. “Can we get this over with?” 

“Don’t sound so depressed, Eds. You’re spending your night with a certified hottie.” Adjusting his headband, he brought Eddie over to the machine. He gave a quick rundown of what it was called and how to use it. “This is a rower. Like a boat, all right? Hold onto that, keep your legs straight, you’re gonna lean back and well, row.” 

“Doesn’t sound too bad.” 

Richie chuckled, slapping his shoulder before adjusting the weight. 

The machine turned out to be a nightmare as it required a hell of a lot more muscles than Eddie thought he was capable of using. Even in a lighter setting, he felt like he was straining himself just to be able to keep up. He did a couple of sets or reps, whatever Richie called them before Richie moved him onto the next machine. 

He hadn’t brought water or anything to keep him hydrated so he had to stick with the tiny paper cups from the water cooler in the corner. He tried not to think about how many times that water was changed out. He was too parched to taste the bland, staleness of old water. 

When the first hour passed they took a small break. They sat against the mirrors, watching the other guys who came to work out do their sets. “So, any chance of you becoming a gym rat like the rest of us?” Richie asked him, resting his chin on his bent knees. 

Eddie was very doubtful that he’d ever willingly want to work out. Ever would willingly want to sweat into his clothes and strain his muscles until he was left tired and aching. 

He remembered his mother shaking her head whenever the Olympics would come around and they’d sit by the television and watch all the competitions. Sonia would comment about how they would work so hard just for one chance at winning.

“All of that hard work for nothing,” she would comment whenever they lost. Eddie, the innocent one, who always tried to be optimistic, reminded her about the winners. “They might have won but how long will that last? Trust me, Eddie-Bear. They will lose that shapely body soon enough and get addicted to opioids just like every other former star.” 

She turned the television off after that. Very rarely did they watch anything that contained athletes or anything other than game shows and children’s programming. It’s a mystery Eddie turned out even half okay after having a woman like that as his only companion for so long. 

He wondered what his mother would be thinking if she knew where he was. If she knew her precious little boy was sweating and working out on machines that hadn’t been cleaned and drinking water almost from the tap. 

“How much is it?” Eddie questioned, deciding to throw caution to the wind. 

It wound up only costing Eddie fifteen bucks a month to join. He found that to be pretty decent on account of it being a small private gym. 

A small group of women came in and greeted Richie as Eddie was signing up. They flashed their teeth at him and Richie commented, calling them pearly white and magnificent. Eddie brushes his teeth every morning and every night, always flossing in between and using that terrible tasting mouthwash whenever he could. Dental hygiene was important and taking care of his mouth was one thing Eddie took pride in even after leaving his mother’s house. 

Once his membership was started, Eddie hung around for a few minutes after, using the hand weights that were in the corner. He found himself watching as Richie went around the room, helping out those who needed it. He had a way about him that even if you had just met him, he’d find a way to get under your skin. Whether or not it was in a good way all depended on Richie but that was his style. 

They left together after another half hour. Eddie was tired and he knew he would be sore in the morning. 

“Now that you joined maybe we could become gym buddies?” Richie had suggested, playfully bumping their shoulders together as they walked down the street. 

They did become gym buddies, much to Eddie’s dismay. His body aches for days after the first trip and he had become very comfortable with standing in the freezers of the grocery store on days when he felt extra sore. 

Richie didn’t go easy on him but he also knew not to test his limits. They found a routine that worked for them both and on days when Richie couldn’t make it or their schedules just couldn’t line up, Ben and Beverly were more than happy to tag along with him. 

It may not have been his intention of becoming a gym rat but he found himself going two to three times a week. Any night when he wasn’t in the mood to just sit back and watch tv or read a book or do a puzzle. 

He also went out to the farm to watch a fight now and then. He still didn’t understand it that much, the rapid appeal of going head to head with another person, but it was another excuse to get out of the house and socialize. 

Eddie found himself doing a lot of things he wouldn’t have thought he would do before coming. He was eating new foods all the time, trying different things. 

He was making his own choices, going out to buy his clothes with Beverly in tow. She didn’t choose anything for him but gave her the best intel since she had a thing for fashion. 

He found his sense of style for the first time. He found his sense of reality for the first time. Making his own choices and doing things he wanted to do without worrying if he would get in trouble or he would make his mommy angry. 

It hadn’t been what Eddie expected when he first arrived in Bangor. Trying to move on from the life he once lived wasn’t easy but the alternative wasn’t much better.

He had spoken up about it during one of the group meetings. He was half listening, not even sure what the topic was but nobody else commented. It was obvious the director was feeling a bit dejected and thought well, why not? 

“We try to find a middle ground. Between the life, we lived before breaking away and the life we’ve been thrown into now that we're out of that situation. It’s not easy. May not even be possible but, it’s worth trying right?”

“That’s right, Mr. Kaspbrak. That’s exactly right.” 

“Look at you making an impression in the group,” Beverly mentioned as they left. 

Eddie didn’t want a pat on the back for coming up with something that made sense or for just being honest. He knew everybody had been through something similar and he wasn’t going to pretend like he had done or said anything poetic. If they didn’t find something to hold onto, something to shape their life around, then what was the point of having a life, to begin with?

“Are you seeing Richie tonight?” Beverly asked. 

He was but not for the gym. The old theatre was playing some old-time movies and Richie thought it would be good for Eddie to see them. He had blown a gasket when he found out Eddie hadn’t seen Titanic and Back to the Future so they had begun to have designated movie nights.

Sometimes they would invite Ben and Beverly and on other nights it would be a rude group thing. The sorry lot of Bangor Maine had welcomed Eddie in without a second thought and they planned on spending the remaining days of their summer before Bill and Stan went back to school out of state enjoying every part of this.

They had shown him all different types of movies, from black and white classics to modern horror. They were widening his horizon film-wise and he found that it was a great way to spend his night.

On this particular night, it was just Richie and himself, watching the classic film Singin’ in the Rain. Richie insisted he wasn’t a dancer in any way but he has a passion for Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor. 

The movie itself was rather grand and Eddie wondered why his mother hadn’t allowed him to watch it. Perhaps the dancing ladies were a bit too much but he found it to be enjoyable. 

They found their way to the diner afterward, sitting in the far corner away from sight. Richie ordered waffles even though it was nearly eleven pm, asking for syrup, and whipped cream, and peanut butter all on top. 

Richie was rambling on about the film they had just seen and then suggesting a few others along the way. “I certainly can’t believe you’ve never seen Star Wars man. Not even like on tv or something during the holidays?”

“I wasn’t given a lot of screen time, Rich.” Eddie reminded him. 

He had opened up to Richie slowly over the weeks of them knowing each other. Ben hadn’t said much about his predicament other than his mother was overly protected and shielded him from the world. Eddie had been the one to tell Richie just how bad it had been in between their weekly gym meetups and regular hangouts.

Richie took it in stride, never once showing that he felt sorry for Eddie. He treated him just like every other person, apologizing only when a “your mom” joke slipped through his lips because old habits were hard to break.

“Seriously, dude. We’re watching it. You’re gonna come over to my place and I’m making you sit through it all.”

“Aren’t there like, six of them?” 

“Technically nine bit the prequels aren't that important unless you want backstory and the newer ones are garbage. An only good thing to come out of them is the eye candy.” He placed his hand dramatically over his chest. “Oscar Isaac? Oh, be still my beating vagina.” 

The waitress came over then, placing their food down between them. 

“Did you just quote Mamma Mia 2?” 

Richie slammed his fist down on the table, something that the waitress seemed completely unfazed by. “You haven’t seen Star Wars but you’ve seen Mamma Mia 2?!”

“And the first one. Mrs. Hanscom showed them to me.” 

“You, Edward, have hurt me today. I don’t know how I’m gonna cope.” He announced and then proceeds to dig into his waffle. 

Eddie ate his food, which consists of a simple grilled cheese. They had gotten popcorn at the theatre and he didn’t want to start pigging out just because he was working out more. He watched Richie gorge himself on the sloppy, crunchy waffle and found himself realizing he had never eaten a normal pancake or waffle.

Everything had been gluten-free, sugar-free. He never tried whipped cream or peanut butter. Due to his birthday being around the time of thanksgiving his mom would make him a fruit cake or sometimes a gelatin cake. He didn’t even know what real birthday cake tasted like. 

“Can I ask you a weird question?” He asked suddenly. “Can I have a bite?”

“A bite?” Richie asked, his mouth still full from his bite. 

“I’ve never had a waffle. I’ve never had peanut butter.” 

Richie swallowed hard, shaking his head in despair. “Fuck, Eds. Your mom messed you up good, didn’t she?” He slid the plate over, knowing better than offering Eddie his fork to eat off of. “Knock yourself off.” 

Eddie grabbed his fork and knife to cut off a small piece. It looked soggy and heavy, completely covered in the sticky substances. He took the bite slowly, chewing it down carefully. It was hard to describe; the ooey-gooey, nutty flavor mixed with the maple of the syrup and the creaminess of the whipped cream. 

Richie was watching him intensely, ready to jump into action in the rare chance his mom wasn’t lying and he needed to inject him with an EpiPen just in case. 

“Well?” He asked after a moment. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie replied.

“Is that a good holy shit or bad holy shit?”

“A very good holy shit. Holy shit!”

“I know right? Delicious.”

“Disgustingly delicious.” 

“Do you want your own?” Richie asked, already half turning down he could get their waitresses' attention. 

“No.” Eddie decided. “I want Reece’s cup.” 

“Yeah? We can get you one of those.” 

And they did. After leaving the diner they went down to the nearest 7/11 and bought Eddie Reece’s cup and other assortments of candy that he had been deprived of his entire life. 

They spent the rest of the night driving around, eating candy, and just laughing about the stupid shit going on in their town. It was nearly one am when Richie dropped Eddie off at home. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Shoot Spaghetti,” Richie asked, shifting in the darkness of the car. He turned on the lights above them, giving them a chance to see one another.

“Why do you think Ben and Beverly aren’t together?” He asked carefully. “It’s obvious they like one another. Even I can see that.” 

“You’re not the only one,” Richie chuckled dryly. “I think they’re scared. They don’t wanna lose what they had, you know? Good friendships are hard to come by.” 

“What would you do?” 

“In their situation?” Richie shifted once more, turning his body slightly, uncomfortable against the restraints of the seatbelt. “Oh boy. Well. Hmm.” 

He laughed again, awkward this time around. He looked to Eddie, reaching up to adjust his glasses slightly. 

“You kind of told me your own sob story, so I guess it’s only fair I tell you to mind.” He admitted, turning his face so he looked at Eddie somewhat properly. “Look. You know I’m gay right?” He asked then. 

Eddie had more or less guessed it along the way. Richie had been very upfront with the flirting, but he also was like that with people of all sexes. Very open and bubbly. Eddie found it somewhat off-putting in the beginning. Eddie, who was so somber and quiet, who had been trained and conditioned to be this quiet, gentle soul like his mother wanted him to be was a very large contrast to Richie’s outwardly and blunt personality. 

He had grown used to it over time, thanks to the spare chances they had been given to be around one another. It was still a lot for Eddie to get used to, but after the endless comments about certain male celebrities, it led Eddie to believe Richie leaned more towards one side than the other. 

“I don’t make it very subtle,” Richie admitted, another quiet laugh slipping through his lips. 

“Back when I was in high school, there was this guy. His name was Connor. We met at the arcade and we sort of . . . we became friends. Like, fast friends. And like Bev and Ben, we spent all our time together. Anyway, I sort of always knew I liked Han more than Leia, so it didn’t take long for me to become head over heels for him. We wound up going to prom together as friends. We hung around the bleachers and all I kept thinking about was wanting to dance with him, you know? Not even just slow dance but just get out there and move our bodies. To just dance with another guy! Later on, we went outside to smoke and on the way back in I stopped him. I just looked at him and couldn’t stop myself. I kissed him there in the hallway. And you know, for a split second I could have sworn he kissed me back.”

“But he didn’t?”

Richie shook his head, his tongue slipping across his dry lips nervously. “Someone spotted us. Soon everybody was gathering in the hallway to see what the queers were doing. He pushed me away and a fight started. He tried to choke me right there, surrounded by everybody until the teachers pulled him off me. He said some not so nice things.” 

“What happened after?” 

“I had to survive without my best friend. And I guess I didn’t know-how. Being called a faggot is one thing, but hearing how sick you are. Knowing the one person you care about most in the world thought you were better off dead. It’s hard to imagine otherwise. I decided to prove him right.” 

“Rich….”

“That’s how I wound up at the gym. After tossing myself off a bridge and living to tell the tale, my parents put me through all sorts of therapy. One of them happened to be physical. I decided after that I wasn’t going to hide anymore. I’d be the real me, whether people liked it or not. I dialed it down a bit. I was an annoying little shit who used to do voices and stuff.” 

“You still do that.” 

Eddie could count on both hands how many times he would slip into some character while they were working out. Eddie first thought it was a way to egg him on and give him a bit of a push but he soon realized it was just Richie’s personality. 

Richie didn’t seem like the type that would have done something like that. Had put himself in harm's way because of the sadness he kept. Eddie knew that it was something of a well-known fact. That some of the cheeriest people can be so dead inside. That the loudest voice could be the quietest call for help.

It made Eddie angry to know that someone Richie had held so dearly could treat him so badly. Could have turned on him for his issues. It didn’t make sense to him and all he could think about was wanting to know why. 

“Thank you for telling me this,” Eddie told him. 

Richie adjusted his glasses again, putting on a far genuine smile as he glanced back over to him. “So now that you know my villain origin story can I ask something about you?”

“Shoot.” 

“What would you do?” 

Eddie didn’t have an answer. It could have been easy to say just go for it but the reality was Eddie didn’t know if he would even make that leap. He got out of the car then, shrugging in response as he bid Richie a good night.

Eddie went to bed, surrounded by his sweet treats, falling asleep to the thoughts of Richie’s laughter and wondering what he would do in that position. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this story hasn't been as well-received as I hoped it would have been. I must admit, it's quite discouraging. I haven't finished it yet and to be honest, I don't know if I actually will. I'm going to continue posting what I have and try to put the effort in for the few people who are reading it, but I thought I'd be a bit truthful for the moment. Sorry to disappoint anyone, but I am not too sure if anybody really cares at this point.


	5. Chapter 5

Eddie Kaspbrak had never had a crush before. While some assholes might have believed due to never being able to leave his house, he would wind up with some Oedipus complex, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. 

Eddie wouldn’t have been attracted to his mother for several reasons, but the main one, aside from the whole incest factor, was that he didn’t like women. 

The truth was however, he didn’t seem to like men either. There was perhaps a small inkling that in reality, he did favor one over the other, but he hadn’t ever found someone he longed to be with. No actors came to mind when Beverly asked him who his favorite celebrity crush was and whenever Mrs. Hanscom would tell him he could invite someone special over for dinner, he always drew a blank.

The only person he ended up inviting was Richie because he was special in his own right. Richie wasn’t the only friend he had during his time in Bangor. He had gotten closer with Bill, and Mike, and Stan just as much as he had with Ben and Beverly.

Bill and he had begun to see one another outside of the group meetings. It started after Bill had taken a hard hit to the face after a fight and it seemed Eddie was the only one with any knowledge on patching up a wound. He blamed it on spending so much time in doctors' offices and asking the pharmacist what all the different products did. He fixed Bill up and the two became friends, with Eddie showing Bill all the different ways to keep himself from bleeding out and how to hide certain bruises with certain products. 

After Bill, it had been Mike, who had taken Eddie under his wing on nights he went to watch the fights. He tried to explain in further detail the different movements and marks the fighters were making. There was so much more terminology that Eddie had ever expected. Each punch had a name, each foot motion had a title. It wasn’t just punched and block, it was jag, and cross, an uppercut, and a hook. Outside of the fighting, Mike was a gentle soul who enjoyed spending time with the animals on his family's farm and welcomed Eddie to come along and do the same, though that was still something he had yet to find any real enjoyment in, though the invite was nice. 

Stan and Eddie had found a nice middle ground based on them both rolling their eyes at Richie’s antics and taking comfort in relaxing activities such as puzzles and building ships in a bottle. Stan had taken Eddie bird watching with him and he had to admit that being out in the woods wasn’t as terrifying as his mother made it out to be. He didn’t have to worry about poison ivy, or ticks, or quicksand-like she had always warned about. 

Having friends was so much different than Eddie thought it would be. He wasn’t putting on a show or wearing a mask. He wasn’t trying to blend in or force himself to laugh or smile just for somebody to include him. The gang liked him for who he was despite the obvious oddity that he had walked out of. 

The only one who seemed to try to get a reaction out of him was Richie. Sometimes he would say something, give him a little nickname or make an obnoxious joke in hopes of getting a rise out of him. He had found ways to keep himself from freaking out, not wanting to upset his mother by being unhappy or annoyed. 

With Richie, it was hard, however. He would just be so bothersome and then just laugh it off without a single thought. He never pushed too far, never made him feel too bad for it, he was just doing it to be a little shit. 

There would be times when he was just sitting there and Richie would try to prompt him. They had gone out to the quarry and Richie would splash him while he was trying to read and sit in the sun, soaking up all the healthy rays that he had been denied during his childhood. They had gone to Mike’s farm and all agreed to take turns in the hammock. Richie had refused to get out and ultimately pulled Eddie in with him, forcing them to share it because he couldn’t be bothered to just let Eddie have his turn. 

Rather than just letting it slip, however, Eddie had found himself lashing out at Richie. Never cruelly, never enough for them to get into an actual fight. Names would be thrown around, most of which Richie found pure enjoyment in. After all, he was doing this to rile Eddie up. To pull him from the shell he had found comfort in.

Nobody else had bothered to do so. Sure, Ben and Beverly allowed him to take his time, always ready to help him with anything he needed help with, but it was Richie that pushed himself into Eddie’s space and forced him to release all those urges that he hadn’t realized were still buried deep inside of himself. 

So it was no surprise to Eddie when he began thinking of Richie whenever they were apart and dreaming of that goofy smile he would flash whenever they were together. He had begun to wonder if he was just not meant to feel sexual urges and then he’d wake up with a hard-on all because of the thoughts surrounding those glasses-wearing jackass. 

Eddie didn’t know how to approach this. He was 21 years old. He was a grown adult, who could legally drink, though he didn’t drive and he didn’t have a car. It was the first time he had ever had a crush on anybody. He hadn’t felt this pathetic since the time he openly admitted to Greta Keene that his mother would be his Valentine when he was 12 years old. 

He tried to shake it off and tell himself that it was just because they were friends. Who didn’t get a boner because of their buddy, right? But the hardening of his member didn’t come when he thought of Bill, or Stan, or Mike. And if by any chance it did come because of Ben, Eddie was fairly certain he would cut his dick off. The last thing he needed after escaping his home was to get turned on by his actual cousin. 

Luckily, or unluckily depending on the situation, the only person that made him feel that way was Richie. The only person that made his stomach do flips and his heart to beat faster and faster, was Richie. 

He tried to tell himself it was normal irritation, but he knew it was more. He found himself unsure if he wanted to slap Richie with his hand or his lips most days. 

Eddie was sure it sounded ridiculous. Here he was, this lonely little virgin, dealing with this childish crush on his best friend. He felt stupid and dumb every time he thought about it. But he couldn’t stop the thoughts from coming in. Couldn’t stop the daydreams of grabbing Richie in the middle of their workouts and dragging him into the back room so he could have his way with him. 

He knew about porn. He had masturbated before. He wasn’t that sheltered. He hid away in the darkness of his bedroom and touched himself back when he was a teenager who woke to morning wood almost daily. That shit was all biology. The stuff he dealt with now had Richie’s name all over it. 

The worst of it had been at the stupid carnival that happened. It came to town every summer and it was probably the most exciting thing they had going on in Bangor. There were rides, and funhouses, and games to play. Ben, Mike, and Richie were pretty revved up about it, while the others just followed along because it was something to do. 

They went on some of the rides, which were modestly fun to absolutely mindblowing. Eddie had never been to anything like this, so rollercoasters, and funhouses, and the merry-go-round were all things he was trying for the first time. He had been a little iffy on the Ferris wheel, as heights weren’t something he had ever been too keen on. 

Richie had convinced him, however, promising that if he went on it with him, he’d win him something nice later. Eddie didn’t so much care about that but allowed Richie to tug him into the metal cubby that was no way safe and kept his eyes closed as they took off. Richie, for the most part, didn’t taunt him by rocking the stupid thing back and forth and instead kept his eyes focused on the horizon, instructing Eddie to do the same. 

The sight was beautiful, but seeing Richie so content as he looked out at the sunset as even better. 

When they got off, Richie made good on his promise. He followed Ben around, trying to win something for Eddie even though the latter repeatedly told him he didn’t have to. He had lost a handful of times, consistently going to the ATM to get more cash. When he finally did win, he saw a little girl pouting in the corner, having lost the game, and Richie, not being a monster, gave her the prize and thanked her for letting him win so he could show off. He went back to trying, leaving Beverly and Eddie to hang out on the sidelines. 

Beverly, who had her arms full of the large stuffed animal Ben had won for her, was jittering off to the side. She had been trying to quit smoking and was dealing with the side effects of going cold turkey. “I’m proud of you,” Eddie mentioned to her, knowing how hard it must be to fight that urge. 

“You’re sweet,” Beverly mentioned, picking aimlessly at her nails. “Ben said the same thing. When he found out I made it the two weeks without breaking, he bought me flowers.” 

“Just imagine what he’ll get you when you go an entire month? And then six months? And then a whole year?” 

Beverly just smiled, squeezing the large teddy bear to her chest. Across the way Ben stood, providing support to Richie as he continued to try and land the basketball into the hoop. Eddie watched the two of them smile at each other, the loving tension lingering between them. 

“Bev,” Eddie spoke quietly. “Why are you and Ben just friends?” 

Beverly snorted then, offering a faux look of surprise. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“I’m not blind, Beverly. Nobody is. Ben won’t make the first move because he doesn’t want to force anything, but why haven’t you?” 

Beverly looked away then, out into the distance. She chuckled, the same way Richie had the night he admitted he tried to kill himself. That short, dry laughter meant to fill the void as they collected their thoughts. “God I could use a cigarette right now.” She admitted. 

“You do like him, don’t you?” 

“I would be a fool not to.” Beverly pointed out. “But I would be an even bigger fool to steal him from somebody who deserved him.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m damaged goods, Eddie. The shit my dad put me through, there’s no going back from that. I . . . I’ve grown as a person, I know that is true, but Ben deserves better than some secondhand trailer trash that got fingered by her dad after he came home from work because he wanted to see if her hymen was still intact.” 

“So what, you think because you were abused you don’t deserve love or some shit?” 

It had been a topic brought up often during their group meetings. People like them, who had been hurt so badly by the people they trusted, didn’t know how to function in the real world because they didn’t see themselves as normal. To them, they were shiny toys that had been scuffled up and broken. Nobody would choose them, not when they were lying on the floor and the other person had the choice to buy something pretty and new. 

Eddie himself had dealt with the issue, unsure as to why Mrs. Hanscom and Ben had put so much time and patience into him until he finally realized that was what family was meant to do. They were meant to be good, and gracious, and kind to one another. They weren’t supposed to lock them up and throw away the key. 

“Ben is going to go places, Eddie. He’s going to get into an amazing college, just like Stan and Bill, and he’s going to leave this place behind and never look back. And I want that for him. He deserves that.” 

“So do you.” Eddie insisted. “Beverly. All that shit you went through? You’re better because of it. It’s like they say in the meetings, the key isn’t to just survive but to live. Live your life after all the garage and prove our abusers wrong. You’re not doing that by keeping him at arm's length.”

“Since when did you get so insightful.” 

“He is my cousin and he’s crazy for you. And you’re my friend and you’re crazy for him. Am I crazy for wanting you to be happy?” 

Beverly didn’t answer. She kept her eyes on Ben or at least in that general direction. “You know, I could say the same for you.” She mentioned after a moment had passed. “When do you plan on living your life and making a move on Richie?” 

“What?”

“He won’t ask you out because of his track record, but the guy is into, Eds.” 

Eddie shook his head, refusing to believe it. “That’s just how he is, Beverly.” 

“He can be an annoying prick at times, but it’s nothing compared to how he is with you. Face it, Eddie: pissing you off is Richie Tozier’s form of foreplay.” 

“Spaghetti man!” Richie shouted as he jogged over. That big, bright smile that made his eyes light up was prominent on his face. He stopped in front of Eddie, holding his chin up high to him. “A Lannister always pays his debts.” He announced in a tight British accent. 

He pulled something out from behind his back then, a small little koala bear that had come from one of the games. 

“Bullshit,” Beverly called. “Either Ben won that or you paid the barker to hand it over.” 

“You wound me, Ms. Marsh! I won this little guy fair and square.” 

“It’s true, Bev. After about thirty tries, Rich finally wacked enough moles to be declared the winner.” 

“Always knew I was a champion at walking off,” Richie announced proudly. 

Eddie took the bear, hugging it closely to him. It wasn’t anywhere near the size of the one Ben had won for Beverly, but he couldn’t care in the least. He stood and followed the rest of the game over to the concession stands, all eager to purchase some overly greasy fair food, and thought about what Beverly had said to him. 

Maybe Beverly had a point there. After all, Richie had begun to pester Eddie and Eddie only. Sure, he liked to push Stan’s buttons and flirt with Ben, but never to the point of getting a reaction out of them. Maybe he was just the only one receptive to it. 

Still, Eddie didn’t want to focus too much on it. He had something else he had been working towards, and that was getting into the ring. 

He hadn’t planned on ever fighting, but the more he worked out and gained muscle and the more he would go and watched, he began to think about what it would be like to be inside the ring just for a moment. The possibility of having the absolute shit beat out of him was obvious, but he could bow out any time he wanted to, no shame on it. 

He had spoken to Richie and Ben about it, both of which seemed rather apprehensive about the idea, but neither was going to stop him if he wanted to do it. They told him he had to work a little bit more and gain more upper arm strength before trying it out. 

Ben showed him a few pointers here and there to work on and Beverly even agreed to spar with him a couple of times just to get him in the general mindset of it all. She completely kicked his ass every time, but it was still nice to have an idea of what to expect. Richie continued to work at the gym with him, assisting in any way he could. 

Eventually, it came to the point where he felt ready to step into the ring. They went to the farm one Saturday night and he gave his name to Mike to add to the list. Mike and Stan exchanged a swift look but didn’t argue. After a bit of time and more people signed up, the roster was posted. 

Bowers vs Huggens. Corcoran vs Bannerman. Marsh vs Ripsom. And finally, Kaspbrak vs. Criss. 

He would be going last, which was a bit of a baller busting moment since it meant waiting around. It also meant giving Richie the chance to try to talk him out of it. That of all things was a little off-putting. He had been working hard, building up to this moment and to know the one person Eddie wanted to prove himself to didn’t believe in him was disheartening. 

“It’s not that I don’t believe in you dude,” Richie insisted. They had walked off for a bit, standing off by the torches lightening the area, just a bit far away so they could talk over the yelling and cheering. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

“I can handle myself, Rich. Besides, I see you get hurt all the time, it’s not a big deal.” 

“My face is ugly to begin with, short stack. I’m trying to protect that pretty boy thing you got going on.”

Hearing Richie calls him pretty wasn’t anything new. He had said it from the beginning and lasted throughout their quick friendship. He complimented everybody, so it was never a real surprise to Eddie when Richie would drop some form of flattery on him. The only difference was Eddie happened to be the only one who got any real reaction from it. 

The fight from over way had finished and it was Beverly’s turn next. Eddie had never missed a fight that any of his friends fought and he wouldn’t do it now. “I’ll be fine, Rich,” Eddie said, letting the words sink in before going off. 

The fight between Beverly and Betty had been a wild one; not for the actual things going on inside the ring, but the reactions of the men around them. Seeing two women go at it was something Eddie would never gain pleasure from, but it seemed to work on the other guys. 

“This is the most we’ve made in a while,” Mike commented as Stanley counted the bets. 

“God bless sexism,” Stan replied dryly. 

Mike had mentioned before that other men had offered to bet double if he got the women to dress a bit more scandalous. Both Betty and Beverly agreed to the show shirt, no shoes rule, but they had the sports bra that was more useful than fashion and wore either shorts or leggings. 

Of course, the sex-driven pigs that loved the idea of two women tearing at each other begged the two men running the show to make them wear something over to underwear or a bikini, but they refused, insisting that the women could fight naked if the men did the same. 

Beverly wound up winning, leaving the ring with a messy bun and fat lip, but she was the champion and that was that mattered to her. 

When it was Eddie’s turn, he tried to keep himself from vomiting right on the spot. He accepted a hug for luck from Beverly, and a nod from Ben, and a final glance from Richie before climbing into the ring. 

Vic Criss was a skinny guy with short, styled blond hair. He was good friends with Bowers and could be a bit of shit sometimes, but he wasn’t the worst of those who liked to throw punches. 

Eddie tried to remember all the tips that Ben had given him before signing up. Just do the movements, focus on the other man’s weak points, and dodge and block everything he could. Tiring out the other opponent was also a good strategy but he also had to remember this wasn’t boxing or wrestling. Anything could be thrown at him at any given moment. 

“And just remember, if you want out, just say so. No shame in stopping.” Ben reminded him once the final time.

Mike counted them in, stepping out of the way once it was time. 

Eddie got into the stance, typical of most fighters. Vic started slow, mostly hitting his upper arms to throw him off. Eddie threw some jabs of his own and even landed a kick to Vic’s hip, but that was the last of him having the upper hand. 

Vic didn’t go easy on him, making sure to quickly remind Eddie the point of this was to kick the shit out of his other. He got a good punch right to Eddie’s left cheek, cutting it open in a matter of moments. They got to the floor and tumbled together, and Eddie was able to snag a few hits of his own, but Vic was able to throw him off and land an elbow to Eddie’s nose. Blood came pouring out and he stopped for a moment when it touched his hips. 

That had been his fatal flaw however and it gave Vic the chance to knock Eddie off his feet. He tackled him, holding him down and pinning him there for as long as he needed. Vic was announced the winner and Mike were there in a matter of moments to pull Eddie to his feet. 

Vic turned to him then, shaking hands with him like any proper fighter. Eddie left the ring, letting Beverly look over his bruises. His cheek was cut and would need some damaging and his nose wasn’t broken but had a good amount of blood coming from it. 

Eddie’s face from his nose to chin was stained in his blood and while that should have been rather horrifying to him, he found that he loved it. The rush that came from throwing and landing a punch was far more electrifying than Eddie ever anticipated. 

Richie hurried to his side, offering a wet towel to help Eddie clean up. “How do you feel?” He asked automatically once Beverly was finished going over the damage. 

“Amazing,” Eddie admitted, almost surprising himself with it. “I shouldn’t. I got punched. A lot. I should be revolted and feel like shit, but I just wanna jump back in there.” 

“Fun, huh?” Richie beamed, placing his hand warmly on Eddie’s shoulder. 

“It was fantastic. Almost arousing. Practically titillating.” Eddie rambled on, using big words he could think of to describe it. “Orgasmic.” 

“Sounds hot, Eds,” Richie muttered, those big eyes drawing down to Eddie’s mouth. 

Eddie would have thought it was due to the blood-splattered there, but he knew better. “Is my face still pretty, Rich?” 

The taller man faltered for a moment before that big, goofy smile came across his lips. He reached out, gently touching Eddie’s chin with his thumb and index finger. He tilted his head up just slightly, moving in closer to him. “Cute, cute, cute.” He whispered. 

Eddie waited for him to make the next move. To do the one thing they both wanted, but he didn’t. Richie stepped back then, releasing Eddie’s chin after a beat. For a moment Eddie began to question everything, wondering if he had missed something between them or was making it all up in his head. 

He had already been bold once on this night, so he figured why not go for gold? Closing the space between them again, Eddie lifted his bruised and unwashed hands, grabbing Richie’s he’d and pulling him downwards as he leaned up. He kissed him then, his first kiss ever.

It was hard and his mouth was still somewhat covered in blood, but he loved it. And when he pulled back, he waited. A small part of his brain thought Richie would have reacted badly. Would have thought the actual idea of kissing Eddie was merely laughable and having his blood smeared across his face as a result of their kiss would be practically traumatizing. 

But he just laughed. Heartly and full of joy, he laughed and smiled before dipping down to kiss Eddie again. It was proper this time, with a better angle. Eddie fell into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Richie’s neck, ignoring the discomfort that came from his nose and mouth pressed against Richie’s. 

He had waited long enough for this. Besides, if it meant kissing Richie, the pain didn’t hurt that much anyway.


	6. Chapter 6

Dating Richie wasn’t much different from being friends with him. 

They still worked out together, meeting up at the gym every chance they had. They’d spot one another, with Eddie deciding he wanted to take it a little more seriously rather than just lazing along to burn the hours and calories away. He wanted to gain some real muscle, to work on the little imperfections that he didn’t like very much about himself physically. 

He took after his father, at least that was what Mrs. Hanscom had told him. A toned body with tanned skin, even though he rarely got outside much to work on it. Physical activity came easily to Eddie, unlike Richie who complained whenever they would go running together. 

Inside the gym was different. He could go at his own pace and constantly pause to talk to the people around him. Once outside and jogging through town, Eddie wasn’t going to slow down for him. He’d be dramatic and act like it was too much for him or insist that he liked lagging because it meant he got a good look at Eddie’s backside. 

Eddie found a fondness for running and even signed up for the Portland marathon in October with Ben. He liked the way it made his body feel afterward and realized he had a bit of a knack for it. He wondered if his mother had not done what she did if he would have been on the track team in high school. Would he have worn a hoodie or letterman jacket? Would he have been popular? Would the team have gone to state?

Outside of just working out, the two went out with the others more often than not. It was the first time Eddie had been a part of some kind of group and he didn’t want to toss it away just because he had some guy’s attention. They went to the movies and the old drive-in that was still somehow in production. They had all been there when Richie showed him the original star wars films. 

They even were able to dig out a picture from their senior year of high school where they had all dressed up like the characters for Halloween. Bill as Luke, Beverly as Leia, Mike as Lando, and of course, Richie as Han Solo. Ben and Stan stayed out of it, choosing to instead dress up as Chris and Martin Kratt from Zoboomafoo, a show Eddie had been allowed to watch when he was a child thanks to the endless reruns on PBS kids. 

“Why would you have gone as Han when you look more like Kylo Ren?” He had asked. They were all squeezed into Bill’s basement watching episode 6. Mike had been the one to show the pictures, taking up scrapbooking during his free time.

It was Richie, Eddie, and Ben on the couch, with Beverly and Stan sitting in front. Bill and Mike were off to the sides, lucky enough to have grabbed the armchair and bean bag chair respectively. 

“Because Han is a fucking legend and Kylo Ren is a punk bitch?” Richie replied like it was easy as that.

Beverly turned then, tossing a handful of popcorn in his face. “Stop stealing lines from SNL.” She commented, yelping when Richie snatched the bowl from her. 

“Brat,” He muttered, going to eat a proper handful before pushing a few pieces against Eddie’s mouth until he opened his mouth and accepted the snack. 

He still annoyed Eddie endlessly. That wasn’t anything new. Richie didn’t change overnight to become this overly romantic man who wanted to woo Eddie and act like a gentleman. He still cracked jokes. Still, name up shitty nicknames that didn’t make sense to anybody but him. 

He still completed everyone around him, though this time around, he was open to admitting that he had someone after his own heart. When Stan had commented on liking Eddie’s running attire, he was quick to cover him with his own gangly body and tell Stan to keep his eyes to himself. 

The only real difference came from their physical actions. Kissing had become the main stake for the two. Eddie went from someone who never wanted to swap spit for the fear of mono and other saliva-based diseases that had been hammered down his throat his entire life to someone who revealed at the chance to be able to pull Richie down and smack their lips together.

They had started slow, with Richie wanting to do this right. He had his heartache in the past and while he had dabbled in messing around with other gay guys, he didn’t want to rush it with Eddie. They went out on dates, to places other than the diner. Richie had made a dramatic show of deleting his Grinder app just to show how dedicated he was to this. 

They had gone to Portland with the others just to get out of town and into the city, and Richie was determined to make a show of it. Holding his hand as they walked down the street, something that even Richie had admitted to never doing something before. 

Eddie took the time to get to know Richie better, learning new things about him every chance he got. He liked music and used it as a key point for his recovery after his failed suicide attempt. He had listened to a lot of classic and alternative rock during that time, citing his main influences to be The Rolling Stones, Green Day, and Queen. 

He bought this one album from the short-lived band New Radicals and played it for Eddie the first time he went to his apartment. The album was fine, though Eddie wasn’t a huge music fan, having grown up listening to artists like The Carpenters and Pat Boone. All cookie-cutter, clean white folks who never had a bad word to say during their performances. 

The singles on the album had always stood out to Richie however, and he had very little issue singing both aloud even if it was just to get onto his friend's nerves. 

When they weren’t fighting down at the farm, they were helping Mike with the animals, or on the rare occasion, throwing a party. It was further out at the end of town, so there was enough land where they didn’t have to wear a noise complaint.

In retrospect, it probably looked like the most redneck raver, with Beverly and Ben standing in the bed of Mike’s truck, dancing to the music that Bill had selected. Drinks were had and food was made. It was just a bunch of people enjoying the company of one another during a cool, summer night. 

It was there Eddie decided to be a little bolder. The gang knew all about Richie and Eddie being a thing, as Richie refused to keep anything in his life a secret anymore. Bill had put on one of those New Radical songs just to appease the other guy and while he hadn’t said anything, Eddie could see the way Richie was shifting in his lawn chair, just itching to dance. 

He put his drink down, walking over without a word to pull Richie from the chair. He had never danced in his life, but he figured it would we’ll enough. Richie caught on pretty quickly and took the lead, swaying with the shorter male, dipping him back and twirling him effortlessly. 

“You do realize this is a basic break up song, right?” Eddie had asked him, unable to not bust his nut just a little. 

“How about you shut up and lemme be romantic?” Richie suggested playfully, going right into belting the final chorus to the amusement of everyone. 

They had missed the chance to go to pride, but that didn’t bother them much. They had their own time to celebrate, in and out of the boxing ring. Eddie had tough two more times since getting together with Richie. He lost each round, though it didn’t bother him much. He still got a thrill from it, just chasing that high had been enough for him. 

They hadn’t been pinned against one another and Mike reassured both of them the chances of it happening were slim thanks to their obvious body differences. 

“It’s for the best anyhow. I’m not one to back down and being the guy that beat the shit out of his boyfriend isn’t a title I wanna uphold.” Richie had commented one night while discussing how Stan and Mike came up with the roster. 

“Who says you would beat the shit out of me?” Eddie questioned, though the answer was obvious. 

Richie had trained longer and was more skilled in the art of ‘fight club’ or so he said. He had been doing this for a while now and could hold his own in the ring, no matter who he was fighting. 

“You’re right, Spaces. You’d blow me right out of the water.” 

“Please don’t talk about Eddie blowing you at the breakfast table,” Stan commented dryly, not bothering to look up from his plate. 

“Bah humbug!” 

“It’s the end of July.” Mike reminded him from across the way. 

“And you think Ebenezer wasn’t a dick year-round?” 

Eddie grabbed a forkful of the pancakes they had been sharing and shoved it into Richie’s mouth, silencing him. 

“So Eddie does prefer you with your mouth full,” Mike mentioned, laughing only when Stan tossed his fork down. 

“Would you fuck off?” He demanded, causing them all to laugh then. 

There was some normalcy to the whole dating scene that Eddie never thought he would find in himself. Just sitting with Richie and having his arm around him or walking down the street and holding hands. It was simple gestures that Eddie never experienced and yet it all felt so natural to him. 

He always thought he would be left behind, never chosen for things because he just wasn’t worthy of them due to his issues, but here he was. Somebody’s cousin. Somebody's friend. Somebody’s boyfriend. The list went on and on and while Eddie was still adjusting, it was definite that changes had occurred. 

He had met up with his caseworker to see how he had been adjusting. They met at a coffee shop just outside of town. He had worked on getting his license and Mrs. Hanscom had allowed him to drive the way. He wasn’t sure how confident he felt behind the wheel, but the freedom it held would be more than Eddie had ever imagined. 

Bill and Stan had helped him study for the written test, which he had passed with flying colors. Richie was more than happy to let Eddie get behind the wheel of his car, insisting that it added a layer of appeal to him. 

“You got that whole ‘I’m too good for this -- James Dean’ look to you, dude.” Richie had mentioned before convincing Eddie to go to the standpipe so they could have a good old fashioned makeout session like a couple of teenagers. 

There had been some heavy petting, but they didn’t take it any further. Richie eventually got out and began doing laps around the cars while trying to bring his boner down, saying that screwing in the back of his car by the standpipe was high school bullshit. They both deserved better. 

Mrs. Hanscom did some shopping at the Target next door while Eddie sat and waited for the woman to come along. When she did, she was taken back by his appearance. He wasn’t sitting up straight, working in his perfect posture, but slouched comfortably. He had finally gotten used to the taste of coffee and had ordered himself an iced with a drizzle of caramel. 

He wasn’t wearing the perfectly polished polo and neatly folded slacks that his mother had picked out for him, but rather a pair of distressed skinny jeans and a blank tee shirt with a hoodie over top. He had borrowed it from Ben, not having bought one of his own. He had a winter jacket, just in case the house got a bit chilly, but he didn’t think he’d need one in the middle of winter. 

He had a cut on his cheek that was still healing and had placed a bandage over it. It wasn’t too large, but it caught the woman’s attention as quickly as it had caught Mrs. Hanscom’s. She hadn’t been too keen on Eddie going out and getting hurt, but she treated them as men and let them do as they wanted so long as they took responsibility for their actions. 

“Aside from the bruise, you look good.” She admitted honestly. 

Eddie wasn’t the lanky, childish wonder that she had first dealt with when the state-appointed her to him. In three months, Eddie had grown a lot since then. He was learning to take care of himself, both physically and mentally and while there were still barriers he had yet to cross, he found himself feeling a hell of a lot better than he had been before what went down. 

They talked about the group sessions and how they had been helping. Eddie had gone to see a therapist on his own, deciding that a one-on-one session wouldn’t be so bad. He found that he liked it well enough, but the amount of attention he had garnered reminded him too much of the conversations his mother used to have with him. He much preferred the group meetings, where there were multiple opinions on one subject. 

They talked about his living situation and how it had been growing over time. Eddie felt comfortable with the Hanscom household. He tried to buy their affection and prove his worth when he first arrived, but he had relaxed since then. He still helped cook dinner and cleaned around the house, but he didn’t overdo it. He understood he didn’t have to be this perfect person, this perfect child, to stay in the house. 

He had considered moving out on his own at some point. He had never been alone since the day of his birth and he thought that perhaps it would be good for him to not have to depend on anybody. He had been saving up money from work, figuring the best thing to do would be to look for places that would be cheap enough when he finally thought he had enough. 

He had thought about going to school, even if it was just the local college to get his associates, but he thought to have a place of his own was the way to go. 

Richie had gone and gotten his associates to work in his father’s dentist's office. He was a dental assistant, following his parents around the office and helping out any way he could. He had considered becoming a dental hygienist, but that would require another round of schooling and he just didn't have it in him to dedicate himself to something he may not even really care for. 

Richie had moved out on his own shortly after finishing college. After what had happened for him, his parents had more or less put him under constant surveillance and he felt it was time to do things on his own. He supported Eddie’s desire to do something on his own but also offered his place in case he ever decided that he wanted to have a roommate. 

He had offered that before them becoming a couple and while now the idea of being alone with Richie seemed to be even more appealing, he held back on leaping until he made his final decision. 

“There’s one final thing I wanted to go over with you.” She mentioned to him carefully. “Now that your mother is finally settled in prison, the restraining order has been lifted. While I do not suggest it in any way, I am inclined to inform you that if you would like to see her, you can.” 

“See her?” 

Eddie had always all those shows, where they featured going to the prison as something as taboo, and then others made it look so natural. Sometimes they’d sit at a table and the person would be across from them. Other times, it would be against the class with the phone. Eddie didn’t know what to expect or how to feel. 

He went home with Mrs. Hanscom, becoming quieter along the way. He was in the house for barely twenty minutes before excusing himself so he could go running. He went all around the main streets, down the back alleyways and through the park. He jumped fences to cut through parking lots and he was going for almost an hour before finally winding up outside the dental office. 

He paced back and forth, debating whether or not he should just go back home and rest or continue running. Eventually, he proved himself too weak and went inside, speaking to the girl behind the desk so he could see Richie. He approached from one of the rooms, the rubber gloves on, and a blue mask across his mouth. He looked oh so very professional that it got Eddie’s heart racing faster than running ever could. 

He took his break and brought Eddie out behind the office. It was where he used to hang out when he had a bad patient or back when he used to smoke. Like Beverly, he had been a stress smoker who decided to go cold turkey. Working out helped as he would sweat the need for a cigarette out, but there were times when he would still want one and he would scratch away at the pavement to get his mind off it. 

They hung out back there as Eddie relented about his day. It wasn’t his plan to come and unload all of this onto Richie, about the possibility to see his mom, but the moment Richie asked him what was up, he just spits it all out, unable to stop himself. 

When he finished, Richie hadn’t run away. He wasn’t looking at Eddie like he was crazy, or pathetic, or all the other things he was feeling. He bobbed his head in an understanding matter. It was one of the things Eddie adored about Richie. He could run his mouth endlessly, but he was also an amazing listener. Bill had confessed to him that Richie was one of the tops in their classes. He wasn’t some dimwit who didn’t know what he was doing and just skidded by with his charm. He was a hardworking student and probably would have been valedictorian had he cared about something like that. 

“It’s hard. And I get that it is, but the choice is yours.” He reminded Eddie. He turned then, going to lean up against the brick wall so he was closer to Eddie. “If you want to see her, then you go and see her. If you don’t, then fuck her. I mean, she got what? A decade in there? If sometime between now and ten years from now you decide you wanna talk to her, you can make that choice. Until then, let her rot.” 

“I’ve never been given the option before. Back when it was just us, I didn’t have a choice. She was all I had in the world.” 

She was his world. He was mommy’s little boy to a whole new level. Even now when he was technically a grown adult, there were still times when he wanted to speak to her. Not because he felt the need to, but because he was conditioned to. It was like there as a small voice inside his head, controlling his every movement. He had shushed it over time, but it was still there, lingering in the darkness. 

“You have a hell of a lot more now.” Richie reminded him in earnest. “You got Ben and his mom. Bev. Stan, and Mike, and Bill. You got the whole fighting brigade.” 

“And you,” Eddie added, stepping in closer to him. 

“You’re right. You got me. And I’m not going anywhere. Not until six anyway. That’s when I get off. And if you stick around until then, I can get you off too.” 

Eddie should have rolled his eyes at the seedy comment. At the obvious attempt at flirting. It was obnoxious and sultry, especially since they hadn’t gotten to that stage yet. They kissed and maybe there had been some heavy petting, but the clothes remained on and the hands stayed above the waist for the time being.

And yet Eddie found himself completely in awe of this goofy, beautiful man he had in his life and he couldn’t help but to feel so very thankful for him. All those gross thoughts he had about himself drifted away the moment Richie gave him the time of say. 

He pulled Richie into him, kissing him soundly. He had found a way to do it where it wasn’t so much smashing of the lips. His lips blossomed like a flower in the morning sun under Richie’s, opening delicately, but fully. When he pulled away, they were panting just a bit due to the length of the kiss, though neither seemed to mine. 

“Is it the scrubs? Babes dig the scrubs.” Richie commented, prompting Eddie to pull him in to shut him up again, and again, and again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extremely late update. Life has been rather unpleasant to be. Hopefully, you've all been doing well. Tell me what you think down below!


	7. Chapter 7

Eddie thought that having a boyfriend would be a natural progression. He thought they’d go from kissing and holding hands to doing a whole lot more. They had started, piece by piece, moment by moment, and at first it was good. 

The first time they had fooled around had been after a fight at the farm. Eddie had gotten into the ring on a clear Friday night. The weather had been good and the sun was beginning to set. The scenery had been rather pretty, looking back at it. 

He had been up against Peter Gorden, a friend of Henry’s who is closer physically, making it a decent match up. He had been training more with the others, wanting to give it his all and not just take a few hits to the face for the rush of it. Bill had been giving him pointers as they waited, while Richie taped up his knuckles like they do in the professional rings. 

Richie had been showing him a few moves he could use if needed, but always reminded him to expect the unexpected in fights like this. 

Eddie had taken a few hits to the face but gave a few himself. He had proven himself over the past couple of weeks that he was a capable fighter and for the first time since he jumped into the ring came out a winner. 

It had been hard at first and his eye was pretty bruised when they finished, but he got Peter down pinned, finally relenting after a bit of time. 

They went out to celebrate after, with Beverly shoving a huge ice cream, covered in syrup, and peanuts, and whipped cream, into his face. It was disgustingly delicious and he ate the whole thing. Richie drove him home that night and told him how he was still terrified to see Eddie in the ring, but how hot it was to see him triumph. 

Eddie had thought the same whenever he’d see Richie step out of the ring after a fight. His shaggy hair would be pulled back tightly and he was sweaty as hell. You didn’t bleed every time you stepped into the ring, but there was always a possibility. Richie was good at dodging blows to the face, but there was always a time when he would come out looking like he had just won a cherry pie eating contest over a faux boxing match. 

“Am I still handsome, baby?” He had asked Eddie, coming out to the ring with his hair tousled, chest glistening with sweat, and his mouth bleeding from getting socked a handful of times. But he won regardless and was smiling like a beautiful idiot. 

“Never call me baby again,” Eddie told him, pulling him into a kiss the moment he got the chance. 

Pet names were fine, but it was obvious that sweet little morsels like ‘baby’ or ‘sweetie’ or ‘honey’ just didn’t seem to fit them. Richie didn’t mind much, however. He was clever enough to come up with a whole list of words to call Eddie and vice versa. 

They wound up making out after the night Eddie won his first fight, leading to Richie wanting to personally congratulate his boyfriend. A back seat blowjob wasn’t the most romantic way to spend your Friday night, but neither wanted it any other way. 

They started doing more after that. Of sneaking away and fooling around to a greater extent. They had gone on dates and would eventually find their way back to Richie’s apartment. Mrs. Hanscom had told them they were more than welcome to hang around the house, but Eddie always felt a bit guilty. She would know this little shimmer in her eye, a knowing glance before sneaking off to her room so they could have some privacy on the couch. 

At Richie’s place, it was a lot better. They were completely alone. No roommates or parents to worry about. They would make out on the couch freely, only going to Richie’s bed when they wanted to sleep. 

Eddie had slept with Richie multiple times since their dating had begun, but they never did anything there. Usually in his car or on his couch, or that one time in the back of the gym that still has Richie smiling to this day. 

They had branched off from making out to Richie blowing him to jerking each other off. They had gotten pretty hot and heavy a couple of times, but they had set to cross the threshold into actual penetration. He hadn’t pushed for it during the first few times, knowing how nerve-wracking it would be for both of them, but as the weeks end on, he began to notice just how gentle and careful Richie had been with him. 

He never asked Eddie to suck him off, never led Eddie to think he wanted to be touched. Richie was fine with doing it on his own or being the one to lead the way. Eddie thought at first it was because Richie knew Eddie had no experience and didn’t want to rush him, but as they got more and more physical, he expected Richie to loosen up a bit. 

But he didn’t. And soon enough it got to be rather off-putting to constantly have Richie touch him and not be the one to do all the work. He had tried a couple of times but wound up doing it a little too late. Once when they had gotten hot and heavy, he wanted to ask for more but found himself finishing just at the prospect of being fucked by Richie. Another time he had wanted to suggest that he be the one to do the fucking and just barely got the words out when Richie came right in his hand. 

He finally got the balls to talk to Richie about it after a night at the farm. Neither had been fighting that this particular night and instead were there to show their support for Beverly. Rather than going up against any of the girls, her name had been placed beside another man. Tom Rogan’s, to be exact. He was a well-known prick who got joy out of pissing off other people in the ring. Even if he lost, he always walked away smiling because he knew he got under the skin of the person he was fighting. 

Nobody liked him, but that didn’t matter. He went into the ring, talked his shit, and got hit because of it. He had done the same to Beverly, taking advantage of circling her and making tiny comments that should have gotten him thrown out, but both Stan and Mike stood by their freedom of speech inside the ring. 

“It’s just ammunition.” Mike tried to explain. “You think I like being called a coon, or Stan a kike? They say what they can to get under your skin, to get a reaction out of you.” 

“There’s a difference between talking shit and being offensive, Mikey boy.” Bill had argued at the time, but unless a refusal was made by all those who had agreed to fight on that night, there was no banning to be done. 

Beverly held her own, but Tom was a bit bigger than him and had more muscle. It didn’t take long until Beverly was bowing out and giving in. Stanley called it, deeming Tom the winner. Ben had stood on the edge of the ring, ready to slip inside and help her out, but Tom went over, kneeling beside her. 

They stopped, half expecting him to do the honorable thing and help her up, but instead, he leaned in and spoke quietly to her. 

“Your daddy ain’t the only one who can pin you down, eh Bevvy?” 

And it was at that moment, Tom Rogan had fucked up. Gone were any cares for the rules of the ring. The moment those words slipped from his mouth, a switch flipped inside Beverly's head. Despite the match being over, she pushed herself back up and charged at him. She got him into a chokehold, squeezing tightly and holding on as he thrashed and tried to get her off. She kept her balance and held strong, even as he began to lower them both onto the ground. 

He tried to flip her off, but only managed to give her more leverage. Beverly held onto him still until Mike came and accounted it out, clearing Beverly as the new winner. 

“She cheated!” Tom croaked as soon as Beverly released her hold on him. 

“Yeah, and you’re banned,” Stan replied. “Ben, get him out of the wrong.” 

“With pleasure.” 

Ben and Richie came forward, grabbing Tom by the arms and hauling him out of the ring off and to the parking area, where they tossed him, his shirt, and his shoes. They made it very clear he wasn’t welcome back before heading back to Beverly’s side. 

That night, they all went celebrate, to show Beverly how proud they were of her holding her own. It was a quick round of drinks at the local pub, one that even Eddie joined in on since he was of age now. He didn’t so much enjoy the taste of alcohol, but he enjoyed the buzz it brought after a couple of glasses. 

They walked back to Richie’s apartment, both leaning on each other for support. Eddie was fairly sure it would happen tonight. Richie kept his arm around him during the entire night, both at the farm and the pub. 

He enjoyed the way Richie’s breath felt against his neck as he held him to his chest during the matches. He liked how easily he could fold himself into Richie’s side as they stood against the bar. Eddie wasn’t small in any sense. 5’9 was average height for a man, but he's 6’2 boyfriend made him feel tiny at times. 

Sometimes it was annoying, especially when Richie would bring up the difference and tease him over it, but there were times when it wasn’t the worst. Like when Richie was on top of him, covering and protecting him. They would spoon on some nights when he slept over, when the way Richie would hold him against him, the way they molded together so easily, it was like they were made for each other. 

Eddie thought something would happen tonight. That they would finally do more than just rub against one another or moan in each other's necks and leave sticky-sweet comments as they jerked one another off. 

But instead, Richie went to bed and prepared to fall asleep.

This made no fucking sense as Richie had previously mentioned that he was always in the mood. 

Always. 

So what fucking gives?

“Do you just find me unfuckable?” Eddie asked him bluntly. 

Richie, who was resting against his pillows and in the middle of removing his glasses, looked very, very confused. “What?” 

“I’ve been trying to have you fuck me or let me fuck you for like a week and a half, dude. And every single time we get to that point one of us fucking jizzes like horned up teenagers, which is fine because we’re still getting off, but I can’t help but to wonder if we’re going to move past jerking it and stick it in.” 

Richie stared blankly to him, barely having any reaction other than shock and awe. Maybe they were both a little drunk and maybe he was a little stressed out over it all, but this needed to be said.

“Eddie . . . I thought we’d go slow.” Was all Richie could think of saying. 

“I don’t need to go slow.”

“Maybe I do.” Richie stood up correctly, pushing against the pillows. He reached out for his glasses, putting them on so they could both see properly. “Eds. Neither of us has ever done the whole dating scene. I didn’t want us to just jump into having sex when we just got together.” 

“It’s not just sex, Richie. You treat me like I’m a delicate thing. A little porcelain doll that needs to be kept on the shelf, far away from greedy hands.” 

Eddie had proven time and time ago inside the ring that he could hold his own and even if he couldn’t, and he lost the fight, he was still able to give it his all. He could get a wound and not fuss about the pain afterward. He bandaged himself up and then moved on. That was that. 

“Eds.” Richie sighed. He didn’t argue it. Didn’t try to explain himself. “Just come lay down.” 

Eddie wanted to keep this up, to draw out the point that he was trying to make, but his head was heavy and his stomach hurt all of a sudden. He allowed Richie to pull him down onto the bed and swallowed down anything that was trying to come back up. He didn’t puke but instead found himself falling into a thick round of sleep. 

Eddie didn’t forget about the conversation. Didn’t forget how Richie refused to give him an answer or even admit his wrongdoing. Eddie had tried to bring it up again, a few days later, but Richie dodged it, turning his attention onto something else. 

It had begun to fester inside of Eddie, that little voice in the back of his head that constantly went on and went, nagging him into submission just like it did the year prior. Eddie had tried to fight it, to run from it, physically run every single day to keep his mind focused on something else, but it would eventually find its way back around. 

Eddie had come to his senses finally or at least his version of coming to his senses, and made a plan. He was tired of people thinking he couldn’t take care of himself, couldn’t handle the real world, and decided it was time to show everyone. 

He had asked around, keeping it pretty much on the down-low. Asking who the toughest fighter wasn’t going to raise any questions. Bill had some answers, and so did Bowers. Stan had been the one to make the final call and when his decision was made, Eddie was ready to go what he felt needed to be done. 

“Are you fucking crazy!?” Richie shouted to the three of them. 

Eddie, Stan, and Mike were standing together, the latter two going over the roster and betting accounts. Eddie had made it clear that he wanted to fight, which was nothing new, but rather than letting the two choices for him, he gave the name of the guy he wanted. 

“You put him against Hotchsetter? He’ll be fucking killed!” 

“Richie doesn’t be dramatic,” Eddie begged somberly. 

“He knocked Vic unconscious last week. He had to be taken to the hospital.” 

“It’s not against the rules, Rich.” Mike had to remind him. 

Richie sighed, giving up on the two running the show and turned to his boyfriend. “Eddie, be reasonable.” 

“I can handle my own in there, Rich.”

“Not against Patrick.” He stepped closer then, his voice lowering. “He’s unhinged. Look, we’re in the same weight class and I can barely take him.” 

“I’ll be fine, Rich.” 

“Eddie, it’s time,” Mike spoke up. 

The couple shared a glance and there was something behind Richie’s eyes that Eddie had never seen before. A silent plea that was hung in the air, just waiting to be answered. Eddie didn’t say a word and instead turned to get into the ring. 

His fists were tapped by Beverly, who wasn’t supportive in the least but knew better than to try and stop him. Patrick was already inside the ring, circling it as he shadowboxed the air. He turned his neck this way and that way, cracking it with ease.

“About time I get to play with you, Kaspbrak. Always like to pin something pretty to the ground.” He commented, a sinister smile dancing across his lips as he watched Eddie from across the way. 

Stan came into the middle of the ring, between the two fighters. Eddie approached Patrick, ready to welcome whatever it was the other man threw at him upon hearing the bell. 

But it never came.

Richie was inside the ring before Stan could make the call, pushing in between them promptly. “I’m tapping in for Patrick.” He announced. 

“No, you’re not,” Patrick said. 

Something Eddie quickly mimicked. “No, you’re not, Rich.” 

“Uh, yes I am. The last time Patrick and I fought, he used an illegal move and I kept it under wraps.” 

“What move?” Patrick muttered. 

“The move that involved you having a fucking weight to your leg.” 

“That’s not a weight. That’s an ankle monitor.” Patrick said, shaking his leg to show the ankle bracelet that kept him from having to leave town. It was a real wonder what he had done to earn that, but nobody bothered to ask, not wanting to get involved with him on any personal basis. 

“Yeah, and you fucking kicked me in the head with it. Does that not count as an outside weapon?” Richie challenged. 

Stan and Mike exchanged a look, bother shrugging before making the next move. “Certainly sounds like one.”

“That could be cause for banning,” Mike mentioned. 

“Banning? Dude, I’m your best fighter.” Patrick snapped. 

Richie bobbed his head in, looking to the group. “Or . . . suspend him from a fight.” 

“Those are our options,” Stan concluded. “Suspension does sound better.”

“Suspension over banning is way better,” Mike decided. “All right, Patrick. You’re out for the night.” 

“Awe, fuck you, Tozier.” 

Patrick walked out then, making room for Richie inside the middle of the ring. “I want in.” 

“Fine by me. Shirt and shoes off.” Stan told him. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Eddie demanded, watching as Richie began stripping in the middle of the ring. 

“Preparing to kick your ass, little man. Unless you wanna forfeit?”

“So you’ll kick my ass, but you won’t fuck me,” Eddie questioned curiously, ignoring the way Stan and Mike looked to each other. 

Nobody needed to know their business, but if Richie was going to be a jerk like this, then Eddie might as well be blunt about it. 

“Listen, if you wanna sit down and talk like adults, we can do that, but something tells me you aren’t going to go about this the easy way.” He turned then, shaking his head as Bill offered to wrap up his hands. 

He was going to go into it bare, unfazed by whatever Eddie was dealing with or going through. 

“I want a clean fight, gentleman,” Mike told them both, the same way he told everybody before every fight.

Both bobbed their heads, waiting for him to give them the call. The moment he did, they got right into it. For a short moment, it was just a consisting back and forth between jabbing and blocking, swinging and ducking. Richie knew all of Eddie’s moves because Richie had been the one to show them to Eddie in the first place. 

Eddie also knew most of Richie’s as well, like how he wouldn’t outright fight the person. He would egg them on, letting them get a hit or two while also dodging most of the real impactful ones. He was trying to wear Eddie out, tire him so when the time came, he could pin him down easily enough. 

“Would you stop fucking around?” Eddie demanded, his head spinning as Richie circled him in the ring. 

“I thought you wanted me to do the fucking?” Richie mocked, shooting Eddie that annoyingly gorgeous smile of his. 

“At this point, I think the only thing you want is to mess with me.” 

“Oh baby no, that’s just sad,” Richie muttered, grunting as Eddie punched him upwards, his knuckle landing against Richie’s ear. “The ear, dude? The fuck?” 

Rather than answering him with words, Eddie lunged forward, throwing them both against the ropes. They fell back into the ring, rolling around together until Eddie was on top of Richie, pinning him down. 

“Fight me, asshole!” Eddie snapped. He didn’t know if he was trying to throw Eddie off or just make him tire himself out so he’d be easier to beat, but the routine was getting boring and Eddie just didn’t have the patience for it. 

“I think we’re going on ten seconds here, Staniel!” Richie called out.

Eddie pushed off him, standing up and kicking at Richie’s side roughly. “Stand up. Get up you asshole!” 

Richie groaned, moving to get up onto his knees. “Eds, come on.” 

“Fight me!” Eddie demanded. “Be a fucking man and fight me!” 

Something flashed across Richie’s eyes then, and Eddie had only a moment to register what happened before Richie leaped up, tackling Eddie down roughly. They rustled around, rolling around for a bit before finally stopping with Richie straddling Eddie, pinning him to the mat. 

“Give up yet?” Richie asked, their face inches apart. 

Rather than responding, Eddie thrust his head forward, knocking it against Richie’s face. It resulted in Richie swearing and a good amount of pain on Richie’s end, but it was enough to distract Richie so Eddie could push him off. 

Eddie stood, kicking Richie down and pinning him with his foot. Richie, with a bloody lip, stared up at the other man as Stan counted down, finally deeming Eddie the winner. Eddie left the ring then, going to Beverly who offered him a towel to clean off. 

Richie stayed with Bill, letting the other man clean his wound. When Eddie approached he was still sitting there, with his glasses back on and an ice pack against his mouth. 

“You let me win, didn’t you?” Eddie asked him. “I’ve seen you fight. You take on guys the same size as you and keep them pinned no problem. The fight shouldn’t have been that easy.” 

“Is that what you think, Eddie? I let you beat me?” 

“Did you?” Eddie questioned. 

Richie pulled the ice pack down, licking his lip gently. It was swollen and while Eddie’s head hurt from where he had butted him, he refused to ice it. Refused to let his pride take the fall for his move. 

“You know what you first came here, I didn’t know what to think. Ben made it clear that you had been through some shit and I thought to put in the effort and showing you how to fight would help you. I think all it did was add insult to injury.” 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“Being in that ring isn’t supposed to be about winning or losing. It’s meant to be fun, Eddie. You’re supposed to go in there feeling good and leaving good. Leave all that toxic bullshit behind.” 

“Half the people who get into that right are talking shit from start to finish.” 

“And half the time they either get banned or they finish the fight with no bad words to say. You stepped into that ring with something to prove and I can’t for the life of me figure out what it is.” 

“Everybody in this town treats me like I’m some kind of porcelain doll. Like I might shatter to pieces at any given moment.” 

Richie laughed, tossing the ice pack behind him into the ring. “Is that really what you think of us, Eds?” 

“It’s true, isn’t it? That’s why we haven’t gone any further, right?” 

“You ever maybe think for a second that I was the one with the issues, Eddie? That maybe I wasn’t ready to take things to the next level? Christ, you come to this town with a chip on your shoulder, expecting every single person to judge you.” 

“And they did. Every person who knows what happens to me looks at me and thinks I can’t do shit.” 

“Ben didn’t! Beverly! Mike, and Stan, and Bill. Fuck Eddie, I sure as fuck didn’t. But sure, go off with your pre-existing notions on what your friends think of you.”

Eddie shook his head, jutting his hand out dismissively. “You wouldn’t understand.” 

“Maybe not, but you sure as fuck wouldn’t let me try! You’re so focused on yourself that you put these stupid fucking walls up expecting me to climb up and then the moment I get to the top you shove me back down.” 

“Don’t be dramatic, Richie.” 

“Look. It’s pretty fucking obvious you have some shit you need to work on and I think until you do, it’s best if I bow out.” 

“Bow out?” Eddie mimicked. “Are you breaking up with me?” 

“Maybe I am.” Richie shrugged, moving to stand up. He winced, his hand going to hold his side as the other searched around for the keys. “It’s like that saying, you know? Can’t love someone if you don’t love yourself?” 

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” 

“Maybe it is, but I don’t care, Eddie. Look, what your mom did to you is horrible, but you escaped that life. You got a second chance. Figure out what the fuck you want from that and come find me when you do.” 

Richie left then, getting into his car and driving off just as the sun finally set, leaving Eddie in the dust. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for not being around. Real-life is hard. 
> 
> Tell me what you think down below please!


	8. Chapter 8

Eddie felt like he had been going through the motions days after the fight. He would get up, go to work, return home and that was it. He stopped going to the gym, knowing that seeing Richie would just stir something up inside of him. He was still peeved not only about the botched fight, but with the things, Richie had said to him afterward. 

Deep down, Eddie knew he was in the wrong. He could stand in the middle of the ring, taking hit after hit and spit blood from his mouth, but the moment someone called him out on his shit, he felt the dark desire to prove something to everyone. Prove what exactly, he didn’t know. 

He tried to convince himself otherwise. Told himself as the days carried on that it was Richie that was to blame. That he looked as Eddie like he was nothing more than this child that needed to be protected the same way his mother did. 

Eddie thought a lot about his mother in the oncoming days. About how she would cradle him and treat him like an infant. How she would keep him locked away, so fearful that something would happen to him if he was to go into the outside world. 

Eddie had proved her wrong, of course. He was in the outside world and nothing had happened to him. He was still standing, still breathing. He had his heart slightly shattered, but that was his business, not hers.

It had been five days since Eddie had spoken to Richie when the bow finally broke. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about it, didn’t want to bother those around him with his issues. Ben had his troubles to handle. Beverly was too close to Richie to understand Eddie’s point of view. And telling Mrs. Hanscom that this all happened because he wanted to have sex with his boyfriend just didn’t sit right with Eddie. 

He didn’t know what set it off, but he made the call to his caseworker and got the information on where his mother was being held. 

He had thought about talking it over with Mrs. Hanscom or Ben but realized this was something he had to do alone. 

It took two buses and an Uber to get there and when he did, he stood outside the prison for a good while, building up the nerves to go inside. It shouldn’t have been that worrisome. After all, she was his mother. Even despite all their issues, he should be able to talk to her, face to face.

Eventually, Eddie swallowed his pride and went inside. He gave the information and waited in the lobby until he was permitted to go in. Similar to the movies, he sat in a chair in front of a window. There was a phone with a chord hooked onto the side and Eddie grimaced at the idea of how often they cleaned them. 

Eddie sat there for about two minutes before his mother appeared before him. She didn’t look any different. No, wear or tear on her and while the prison uniform was obvious, it wasn’t too far off from the unstylish tracksuits she used to wear during his childhood. 

She picked up the phone, urging him to do the same. He did so slowly, tentatively placing the ringer against his ear. 

“Oh Eddie bear,” Sonia muttered softly. The words sent a shiver down his spine. He had been so used to those condescending words, running to her or doing as she asked of him always. “Look at your face! What happened to you?” 

“I’m fine, mommy,” Eddie told her quietly. His cheek was bruised, as it had been since he started getting into the ring. He still had a long way to go, learning to duck and dodge, though he wasn’t sure when he would be fighting again. 

“Who hurt you, sweetie? It wasn’t that Hanscom boy was it? I always knew he was in trouble. Oh, I can’t believe he put those grubby hands on him.” 

“Ben didn’t touch me, mommy. It had nothing to do with him.” 

Sonia sighed softly, placing her free hand against the glass as if to reach out to Eddie. “Oh Eddie bear, I’m so glad you came to see me. I knew you would. I couldn’t believe the horrible things they said. The things they thought I did to you! Are you taking your medication?” 

“I don’t need medication,” Eddie stated. “I’m not sick. They had the doctors check me.” 

Sonia scoffed, unfazed by her son’s words. “Doctor’s don’t know everything, Eddie.” 

“I came here to talk to you about that,” Eddie mentioned. 

“You gained weight, Eddie. You haven’t been eating junk, have you? Sugar is bad for your blood pressure.” 

“It’s just muscle. I’ve been working out a lot.” 

“Working out? Eddie bear, the only muscle you should be working out in your mind. Have you been reading a lot? Are you doing any puzzles? We never got to finish our last one.” 

“I don’t have much time for puzzles, mommy.”

Eddie’s life didn’t revolve around staying home. He had a job, he had friends, he had a relationship. He had begun going out, socializing, doing normal things guys his age were doing. But how could he say that to her? How could he look at his mother in the eye and tell her that he was better off without her? 

“I’m eligible for parole, Eddie,” Sonia mentioned suddenly. “Isn’t that wonderful?” 

“What?” 

“Put your hand on the glass, Eddie,” Sonia told him softly. “If I continue good behavior I could be out of there within five years. I know five years is a long time, but it might be shortened to three or even two.” 

“Mom, you… It’s a big deal, the reason you’re in here. I don’t think they’re just going to release you, even if it’s under good behavior.” 

“I am in here because of a misunderstanding.” Sonia clarified. “Eddie bear, put your hand on the glass.” 

“Even if they do release you, there is a restraining order you will have to follow.” He knew the previous one had been lifted the moment she began her sentence but his caseworker made it clear another would start up the moment she got out.

“They can’t stop me from seeing you, Eddie. You’re my son! I gave birth to you, I raised you.” 

Eddie knew that in those aspects she had been correct. She had put up with the morning sickness and back discomfort and horrible pain from labor to bring him into this world.

“You didn’t raise me, mother you kept me alive like an animal in captivity,” Eddie commented. “I walked around the back yard the same way a whale inside Seaworld circles their tank. I had nowhere to go, no friends to see.” 

“What good would having friends do you, Eddie? All those terrible children in school were always so cruel. You didn’t need them, Eddie. All you needed was me.” 

She tapped her nails against the glass impatiently. Eddie bit back his tongue, wanting to tell her all about the friends he had made since he had been out of her care. He wanted his mother to know that not everybody in this world was cruel and that there were good people out there who liked him and thought he was interesting and kind, and worth keeping around. 

“We'll be together again soon, Eddiebear,” Sonia told him. 

And for a split second, he believed her. He truly believed that his mom was capable of being on good behavior and getting released early. He believed she was capable of finding a way around the restraining order so they could be together. He fully believed she would drag him back to that house and keep him locked away just like before. She would treat him like the clay from her pottery class. Small and easy to mold into what she wanted of him. 

“Put your hand on the glass Eddie,” she told him once more. 

And for a split second, Eddie felt his hand rising, moving closer to the edge. His fingers spacing out prepared to lay flat against the cold, fingerprint stained glass that kept him separated from his mother. 

He was ready to swallow down all that anger and unhappiness that he had felt just thinking of her, ready to do exactly what she wanted once again. 

Eddie stopped himself just before this happened, pulling his arm back and clenching his hand into a fist. “No.” 

Sonia’s expression fell, having never heard that word from her son before. “What?”

“No. No, I am not going to put my hand on the glass. No, I am not going to go back to you.” 

“Eddie bear.” 

“No! You lied to me, mother. You paid a man to drug me. You would keep me home from school and kept me from learning how to drive. You put me in this teeny tiny boy, shielding me from sunlight so I would never actually grow. That’s sick, mother. You’re sick.” 

“Edward Franklin Kaspbrak don’t you  _ ever _ speak to me like that!” 

“I’m not a child anymore, mother. You can’t use that tone and make me shiver.” 

He looked at her. This woman. His mother. Who had once held so much power over him? The power that still lingered there ever so slightly, but as Eddie continued to look at her he realized she was nothing more than a human being with a power stare and demeaning voice. 

“I have been so angry for so long. Wanting to prove myself to everybody around them but the truth is I have nothing to prove.” Eddie admitted, saying the words aloud not only for Sonia but for himself as well. “I like who I am. I’m not perfect but I don’t have to be. Can you say the same, mom?” 

“I don’t know what those people told you Eddie bear but this isn’t you! 

“This is me, mom. This is who I have become while you’ve been locked up.” Eddie leaned away then, preparing to hang up the phone, but he stopped, thinking over his words carefully. “I know you love me, mom, in your way. And I do hope that you get the help you need. But more than anything I hope I never have to see you again.” 

“Eddie! Eddie bear, please! Oh, what has happened to my little boy?!” 

“He grew up, mom. He found the sun.” 

Eddie hung up then, the sound of the phone slamming back on the receiving echoed deeply in his head. Eddie stood and walked out, ignoring the way his mother banged on the glass and how her cries were muffled from the divider wall. He didn’t stick around to see if the guards dragged her on back to her cell. 

He had more important things to get back to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the 3 people reading this, I hope you enjoyed the chapter


	9. Chapter 9

Loving himself had never been on Eddie’s to-do list. Being good, being kind. Caring about those around him and being a decent human being. Those had been things he wanted to learn to do. Reparent himself and find a way to remove the scarred skin that his mother had wrapped him around since the moment he was born. 

But the truth was, no skincare product could ever remove those scars. Even if no one could see them, they were there and they were deep, but that was okay. Just because something was damaged that didn’t mean they were broken. Pieces could be put back together. There might be cracks but that didn’t mean it was worthless. 

Didn’t make Eddie worthless. 

It took him a long time to get to that revelation, but life was meant to be a marathon, not a race right? 

He realized how thankful he should have been for Ben and his mom, for Beverly and Stan, and Mike, and Bill. And Richie. 

He had been so thankful for Richie. 

But he knew there had to be more to life than just them. Eddie had to learn to like himself before he could allow anybody else to like him too. Maybe even love him.

Mrs. Hanscom had been supportive of him every step of the way, once again proving herself as a better mother to him than his own ever had been. She had helped him study so he could take his permit test and she and Ben helped practice driving so he could get his license. Time was coming and going so quickly and by the time he achieved something, it was practically the fall. 

Everybody was planning to go back to school, Ben included. Mrs. Hanscom was sad to see her son go off, but she was happy to have Eddie stay around. They sat together one night while Ben went out with Bev. 

On a date. 

Like a date-date.

Eddie didn’t know what it was that got Beverly to snap out of her resistance about being anything more than friends. Maybe she finally realized just how good they were for each other. Eddie figured he’d ask one day. 

“You know,” Mrs. Hanscom mentioned as they sat together in front of the tv. She had something in her hand, long and thin. “I probably should have given this to you when you first arrived. I guess I wanted you to adjust to everything.” 

Eddie took the item, which was leather with a familiar set of letters carved on to it. 

FK.

Franklin Kaspbrak. 

“Your dad set this up for you before he died. He wanted you to be taken care of. I guess he didn’t trust your mother with it, so he gave it to us to one day give to you.” 

Eddie opened it carefully, seeing it was information on a bank account, but rather than it being in his father’s name, it was on his own. All the money that his father had made and saved up. The trust fund that nobody had known about was his for the taking. And he could do whatever he wanted with it. 

The first thing he did was buy a car. 

Nothing special or amazing. It wasn’t as safe as he had been hoping for and nothing outwardly fancy, but it was his. He planned on fixing it up, giving it another chance at life just as Eddie had been given. 

The second thing he realized he wanted to do was to go to school. He didn’t know what he would major in, but being able to have a degree to call his own and learn about things that interested him just seemed too good to pass up. 

He decided to go to the local college, just until he figured out what he wanted to do with his degree. He would be attending the following semester, allowing him enough time to get everything together. 

Everything finally seemed to start falling into place. 

Well, almost everything. 

He missed the gym, missed working out his body, and seeing his friends. Bill, Stan, and Mike had all contacted him and dropped by the store to see him, but he hadn’t been active in the fight club since his night with Richie. 

He had contacted them all, deciding it was time to go out in the world and have friends again. It was nice, but he knew there was still something missing. 

Someone missing. 

He parked outside the dentist's office, leaning back against his car as he waited for Richie to come out. He was wearing scrubs when he did, with his gym bag tossed over his shoulder. He seemed surprised to see Eddie since the two had been on radio silence for weeks now. 

“That car yours?” Richie asked him. “You realize it looks like a death trap of death, right?” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard a stupider sentence,” Eddie admitted. “I got my license. And a trust fund.”

“Looking to become a sugar baby?” Richie teased, stepping closer to him. 

“Kind of looking for something more serious,” Eddie mentioned, pushing off the car. 

Richie hummed, looking Eddie up and down. He didn’t know what he would say or what he would do. If he even still wanted anything to do with him up to this point. “You look good.” He finally spoke. 

“Feel good. To a degree.” 

“A degree?” 

“Kind of miss getting tossed around in the ring.” 

Richie snorted, a smile coming across his lips. “And _ I  _ say the stupid shit.” 

“Kind of miss you too.” Eddie went on to say. “I never got to say I was sorry for how I acted.” 

“Save it. You were going through some shit. Understandable.” 

“Not going through anything now.” Eddie moved closer then, tilting his jaw up so he could keep the eye contact. “Think you’d wanna hang out sometime?” 

“I’m kind of hungry,” Richie mentioned, placing his hand on his stomach. “Feel like getting a Frosty?” 

Eddie’s heart skipped a beat at the invite and as Richie moved in closer, he realized it was more than that. Maybe they were rushing it or maybe they were just stupid, but Eddie didn’t care anymore. 

Kissing Richie felt like a sucker punch to the gut and he never wanted to feel anything different. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you all enjoyed this. This is officially the end of my Reddie fanfic writing career. Thank you all for checking this out. Have a good night or day.

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you think below. I apologize if any characters seem a bit out of character. This is a bit of a different imagining of him if they had to be put through certain situations. I promise I try to have them open up and become their canon/fanon selves eventually. 
> 
> This is truly a piece of my heart. My own little love letter to Eddie Kaspbrak. Who lives under the thumb of his mother and deserves so much better.


End file.
